UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822017140815 


UNIVERSITY  Of 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


/o 


U.N  VE,PSITY  OF  CAJLIFORNI. 


3  1822017140815 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall. 

Date  Due 


DEC  0  *  B34 

APR  2  4  199* 

Cl  39  (7/93)                                                                    UCSDLJ3. 

Shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  Soltaire  peered  long  and 
earnestly  into  the  valley  at  his  feet  without  moving  a 
muscle. 


SOLTAIRE 

A  Romance  of  the 
Willey  Slide  and  the 
White  Mountains 

BY  GEORGE  FRANKLYN  WILLEY 
Illustrated  by  Hiram  P.  Barnes 


MANCHESTER,  N.  H. 
New  Hampshire  Publishing  Corporation 
1902 


COPYRIGHT,  1902 
BY  GEORGE  FRANKLYN  WILLEY 

Entered  at  Stationer's  Hall,  London 

Foreign  copyrights  secured 
Rights  of  translation  and  dramatization  reserved 


PRINTED  BY 

RUMFORD    PRINTING   COMPANY 
CONCORD.    N.    H. 


TO 
GEN.  M.  C.  WENTWORTH, 

LIKE    THE  WRITER   A    NATIVE 

OF   JACKSON,    N.  H.,  AND 
FAMILIAR    WITH    THE   SCENES 

DEPICTED    HEREIN,   THIS 
BOOK   IS   DEDICATED   AS   A 

TOKEN  OF    LIFELONG 
FRIENDSHIP    AND    ADMIRATION. 


WHY   WRITTEN. 


The  writer  of  the  following  story 
has  been  from  childhood  familiar 
with  the  White  Mountain  region. 
Born  within  a  half-score  miles,  as 
the  crow  flies,  of  the  tragic  "Willey  slide,"  and 
bearing  the  same  name  as  the  family  so  sud 
denly  eliminated,  familiar  with  the  legends  of 
the  event,  and  with  the  conjectures  of  the 
"oldest  inhabitants"  as  to  the  fate  of  those 
who  were  never  found,  he  has  taken  the  time 
from  his  other  occupations  to  put  into  this 
romance  something  both^ 
of  tradition  and  conjec 
ture. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGB 

IN  THE  PATH  OF  THE  AVALANCHE      .         .11 
CHAPTER   II. 

SOLTAIRE   OF    THE    MOUNTAINS       .  .  •       25 

CHAPTER   III. 
THE  GREAT  CARBUNCLE      .        .        .        .41 

CHAPTER   IV. 
BROKEN  TIES     .  ....     67 

CHAPTER  V. 
SHELLING  PEAS  ......     83 

CHAPTER  VI. 
ROMANCE  AND  REALITY      .        .        .        -99 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS        .        .         .  113 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
SOLTAIRE'S  SECRET 135 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  Soltaire 
peered  long  and  earnestly  into  the  valley 
at  his  feet  without  moving  a  muscle, 

Frontispiece. 
PAGE. 

Black  Mouutain          .....         20 

The  bear  stopped  in  his  pursuit,  and  utter 
ing  another  and  more  triumphant  snarl  .  50 

"Look!"  he  exclaimed,  triumphantly; 
"behold  the  mountain  jewel,  the  price 
less  diamond ! "  .  .  .  .  68-69 

Martha  had  come  to  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern,  and  pushing  aside  the  fir  drapery 
stood  looking  upon  the  wide  expanse  .  75 

Once  he  glanced  back  over  his  shoulder 
with  a  look  which  Martha  remembered 
the  rest  of  her  life  ....  82 

"Why  are  the  peas  we  have  got  here  to 
shell  like  the  seven  falls  on  Wildcat  river 
yonder  ? "  .  .  .  .  .  90 

The  vehicle  was  driven  up  in  front  of  the 

hotel 99 

The  couple  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  pe 
culiar  maple  .  .  .  .  .103 

' '  Grandmother,  speak  and  say  that  you 
recognize  me — Louise"  .  .  .119 

She  laid  her  hand  silently,  trustingly,  in  his,       143 


SOLTAIRE 

CHAPTER  I. 

IN    THE    PATH    OF    THE    AVALANCHE. 

"An  everlasting  hill  was  torn 

From  its  primeval  base,  and  borne, 
In  gold  and  crimson  vapors  dressed, 
To  where  a  people  are  at  rest. 
Slowly  it  came  in  its  mountain  wrath, 
And  the  forests  vanished  before  its  path, 
And  the  rude  cliffs  bowed,  and  the  waters  fled, 
And  the  living  were  buried,  while  over  their  head 
They  heard  the  full  march  of  their  foe  as  he  sped, 
And  the  valley  of  life  was  the  tomb  of  the  dead." 

Crawford's  Notch  is  a  term  to  suggest 
at  once  to  the  mind  of  the  tourist  a  double 
significance,  the  nobility  and  grandeur  of 
man  and  the  grandeur  and  nobility  of  the 
mountains.  Those  who  remember  the 
Patriarch  of  the  Hills,  for  whom  this  wild 
gorge  was  named,  recall  a  specimen  of 
rugged  virility,  an  ideal  mountaineer. 


1 2  Soltaire 

A  puny  form  and  weakened  intellect 
might  pass  among  the  masses  without 
creating  any  surprise,  but  a  dwarfed 
physique  is  not  looked  for  in  the  wild 
domains  of  Nature.  Neither  do  we  look 
for  any  ordinary  architecture  in  the 
mighty  formation  of  these  monarchs  of 
New  England's  mountains,  lifting  their 
snow-crowned  crests — 

"  Like  earth's  gigantic  sentinels 
Discoursing  in  the  skies." 

Thirty  miles  in  length  from  the  narrow 
opening  at  Fabyan's  to  the  broad  outlet 
of  Conway's  meadows,  for  nearly  two 
miles  eastward  and  downward  from 
Crawford's,  the  Notch  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  fissure  between  two  masses  of  huge 
rock — a  defile  twenty-two  feet  in  width 
overhung  by  rocky  ramparts  from  twelve 
to  twenty  feet  in  height — looking  as  if  the 
giant  powers  of  earth  had  risen  in  their 
might  and  moved  back  the  mountains  so 
that  the  river,  finding  its  life  current  in  the 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche     13 

crystal  fountains  of  the  White  Hills,  might 
make  its  escape  to  the  intervales  below. 
As  the  valley  continues  it  grows  wider, 
though  the  retreating  mountains,  Mount 
Willey  on  the  one  side  and  Mount  Web 
ster  on  the  other,  lift  their  heads  to  the 
height  of  over  three  thousand  feet.  Down 
the  rock-ribbed  sides  of  these  giants  leap 
clear  streams,  feeders  of  the  wild  Saco. 
One  of  these  tributaries  affords  the  Silver 
Cascade,  a  display  of  waterfalls  no  tour 
ist  fails  to  visit.  There  is  also  the  Flume, 
possessing  a  weird,  lonely  grandeur, 
while  farther  down  is  that  stream  of  more 
melancholy  interest  known  as  "  Nancy's 
Brook."  At  once  the  sad  story  of  the  de 
serted  maid  seeking  her  recreant  lover  is 
recalled,  and  the  sympathetic  comer  drops 
a  tear  over  the  unhappy  fate  of  the  poor 
girl  who  perished  here  of  hunger  and 
cold,  when  she  could  no  longer  continue 
her  search  for  him.  Perhaps  a  little  of 
the  sting  of  her  sorrow  is  removed  by  the 
realization  that  he  suffered  for  what  he 


14  Soltaire 

made  her  endure,  for  the  spirit  of  "an 
eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth '' 
still  lives  in  the  human  breast. 

If  we  look  upon  the  river  in  the  cheer 
less  songs  of  its  rushing  waters  as  lacking 
sentiment,  the  dusky  hunter,  whose  snowy 
canoe  first  skimmed  its  foaming  current, 
claimed  that  it  was  more  divine  than 
human,  having  sprung  from  the  tears  of 
the  Great  Manitou  in  his  grief  over  a  fall 
en  people.  But  the  scenery,  rather  than 
the  conceptions  of  a  race  we  could  never 
understand,  attracts  us.  From  the  rugged 
splendor  of  the  granite  gateway  to  the 
peace  and  good  cheer  of  the  quiet  vales 
it  is  impossible  to  find  landscapes  more 
beautiful  or  sublime.  Overhung  by  the 
luxuriant  foliage  of  majestic  trees  lining 
either  bank,  the  Saco,  soon  after  leaving 
the  Gate,  rolls  on  in  a  more  subdued  man 
ner  when  in  its  peaceful  moods,  through 
its  natural  archway  of  green.  But  between 
the  river  and  the  elements  there  is  some 
times  war ;  and  then  beware  ! 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche     15 

Crawford's  Notch  was  first  seen  by  a 
white  man,  a  hunter  named  Nash,  from 
a  treetop  on  Cherry  Mountain,  in  1772, 
only  three  years  before  the  first  battle  of 
the  Revolution.  Until  then  the  scattered 
settlers  above  and  around  the  White  Hills 
had  been  obliged  to  travel  to  the  lower 
settlements  by  circuitous  routes  around 
the  mountains.  So  the  discovery  of  this 
passway  was  hailed  with  pleasure,  and 
the  hardy  pioneers  were  soon  trying  its 
difficult  and  dangerous  course. 

The  passage,  however,  proved  so  toil 
some  and  perilous  that  as  early  as  1793 
a  road  was  laid  out  from  Conway  to 
the  town  of  Coos,  and  that  year  a  sort 
of  half-way  house  was  built  by  a  man 
named  Davis  under  the  overhanging  cliffs 
of  one  of  the  mountains.  This  dwelling, 
on  account  of  the  tragical  fate  of  a  family 
at  one  time  occupying  it,  became  known 
as  "the  Willey  House."  A  little  grassy 
meadow  stretched  along  the  river  bank 
in  front  of  the  place,  and  though  the 


1 6  Soltaire 

mountain  came  so  near  on  the  other  side 
that  a  great  rock  reared  its  massive  front 
almost  over  its  roof,  the  surroundings  of 
this  isolated  home  suggested  peace  and 
repose.  The  occasional  wayfarer,  brav 
ing  the  hardships  of  the  lonely  pass  either 
on  business  or  pleasure,  had  reason  to 
bless  the  sturdy  settler  who  made  his  hum 
ble  home  the  haven  of  comfort  to  the  pil 
grim. 

Increased  travel  called  for  a  better 
road,  and  in  1803  this  route  was  incor 
porated  as  the  tenth  turnpike  in  the  state. 
Immediately  streams  of  traffic  passing  to 
and  fro  between  that  region  and  Portland, 
as  well  as  travelers  following  where  for 
tune  led  them,  showed  the  need  of  this 
enterprise  by  greatly  increased  numbers. 
In  winter  it  was  no  uncommon  sight  to 
see  the  winding  valley  road  dotted  for  a 
mile  at  a  stretch  by  teams  from  the  north 
country  laden  with  pork,  cheese,  butter, 
and  lard.  The  horses  were  tough  Can 
adian  animals,  able  to  withstand  the 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche    17 

rigor  of  the  severe  climate,  while  their 
drivers  were  tall,  stout  men  of  giant 
frames  and  sinews  of  iron,  who  urged 
their  panting  steeds  on  through  the  blind 
ing  storms  of  snow  and  sleet,  or  cutting 
blasts  of  cold,  with  loud  shouts  and  blus 
ter  which  awoke  the  mountain  solitude 
far  and  wide. 

Henry  Hill  then  lived  at  this  house, 
while  six  or  seven  miles  below  him  was 
a  tavern  kept  by  that  patriarch  of  the 
Mountains,  Abel  Crawford,  and  where 
the  White  Mountain  House  stands  was 
the  Roseberry  hostelry.  Later  Mr.  Hill 
moved  away  and  the  Davis  house  re 
mained  empty  until,  in  the  summer  of 
1825,  Captain  Samuel  Willey  and  his 
family  went  there  to  live.  At  this  time 
Ethan  Crawford  lived  at  the  Glen,  while 
his  father  had  removed  to  the  upper  end 
of  the  Notch,  near  the  site  of  the  present 
Crawford  House. 

Kept  by  stalwart  men,  who  were  as 
prompt  to  brave  the  perils  that  beset 


1 8  Soltaire 

the  storm-driven  wayfarers  of  the  Amer 
ican  Alps  as  the  monks  of  St.  Bernard 
were  to  battle  for  the  poor  wanderers 
of  the  Swiss  winterland,  these  old-time 
hostelries,  could  their  history  be  written, 
would  afford  an  interesting  chapter  in 
New  England  pioneer  life. 

Here,  the  day's  arduous  journey  done, 
the  tired  horses  fed  and  made  as  comfort 
able  as  possible  for  the  long,  cold  night, 
the  wayfarers  having  eaten  to  their  fill  of 
the  plain  but  nutritious  fare  of  the  times, 
washed  down  with  generous  draughts  of 
old  Medford  rum,  circled  about  the  fire 
places  heaped  high  with  blazing  logs, 
smoked  their  corn-cob  pipes  and  ex 
changed  the  gossip  of  the  day,  or  if  there 
was  nothing  of  more  recent  development 
to  hold  their  attention,  narrated  anew  the 
thrilling  deeds  of  days  not  yet  grown  gray, 
of  bloody  scenes  in  Indian  warfare  still 
fresh  in  memory,  or  retold  the  story  of 
that  closing  act  in  the  great  drama  of  the 
French  and  Indian  wars,  the  last  retreat 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche     19 

of  the  rangers  of  the  North,  or  the  tale  of 
Lovewell's  dearly  bought  victory  on  the 
plains  of  the  Saco. 

The  Willeys  were  genial,  hospitable 
people,  and  they  soon  made  themselves 
loved  and  respected  by  the  travelers  who 
stopped  with  them  during  the  year  which 
followed.  Nothing  unusual  occurred  to 
break  the  even  tenor  of  their  lives  until 
another  June,  when  they  witnessed  a 
scene  which  made  a  lasting  impression 
on  their  minds. 

One  of  those  landslides  which  have 
left  their  lasting  traces  on  the  mountain 
sides,  like  the  tracks  of  some  mighty 
road  builder,  the  reddish  or  yellowish 
hue  of  the  barren  pathway  contrasting 
vividly  with  the  deep  green  of  the  for 
ests,  then  plunged  from  the  dizzy  cliffs 
overhead  into  the  valley  below,  leaving 
a  desolate  path  behind  and  a  mound  of 
ruin  where  it  fell.  These  slides  or  ava 
lanches  of  earth  generally  break  from 
their  connection  with  the  steep  ascent 


2O  Soltaire 

near  the  border  of  the  scrub  vegetation 
where  the  layer  of  earth  is  thin  and  its 
hold  on  the  rocks  slight.  Narrow  and 
shallow  at  first  the  avalanche  widens  and 
deepens  as  it  moves  downward,  gaining 
fresh  impetus  as  it  advances,  until  a 
broad  belt  of  loose  earth  and  boulders 
is  swept  on,  bearing  with  it  great  areas 
of  forest,  with  a  thunderous  noise  and 
shaking  the  mountain  to  its  very  founda 
tion. 

It  was  such  a  sight  as  this  that  Captain 
Willey  and  his  wife  saw  one  misty  June 
afternoon,  but  the  avalanche  passed  be 
yond  them  without  doing  any  harm.  Still, 
it  had  so  awakened  the  fears  of  Captain 
Willey,  that  presently  he  took  the  precau 
tion  to  build  a  place  of  refuge  a  short  dis 
tance  from  his  house  to  which  they  could 
flee  in  case  another  avalanche  should 
threaten  them. 

A  severe  drought  set  in,  so  that  by  the 
last  of  August  the  mountain  region  seemed 
crisped  to  a  powder.  The  dust  lay  in  the 


:,;-'  T>  $  -^ 


i ".  •  /' 

hJS 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche     2 1 

road  ankle  deep,  and  everywhere  vege 
tation  was  parched  and  lifeless.  On  Sun 
day,  the  25th,  a  rainstorm  broke  the  dry 
spell,  and  steadily  increased  in  violence 
until  on  Monday  night  it  had  reached  un 
precedented  fury  and  volume.  Between 
nine  o'clock  that  evening  and  the  follow 
ing  dawn  the  Saco  rose  twenty-four  feet, 
and  its  angry,  swollen  waters  swept  the 
valley  from  the  Notch  to  the  intervales 
of  Conway  with  ruin  and  desolation. 

With  the  experienced  eye  of  a  moun 
taineer,  Captain  Willey  had  noticed  at 
sunset  the  black  and  ominous  appear 
ance  of  the  heavens,  which  were  belted 
with  column  on  column  of  storm-clouds 
moving  slowly  and  grandly  across  the 
western  sky  in  the  direction  of  the  north, 
covering  Mount  Washington  with  fold 
upon  fold  of  the  darkest  drapery. 

With  a  feeling  of  gladness  that  the 
drought  was  over,  and  without  dreaming 
of  what  was  to  take  place  before  another 
morning,  the  doomed  family  retired  at 


22  Soltaire 

half-past  ten,  though  not  to  sleep.  At 
least  the  parents  remained  awake,  though 
it  may  be  some  of  the  five  children  fell 
into  the  innocent  slumber  of  childhood. 

At  eleven  a  distant  rumbling  was  heard 
above  the  sullen  roar  of  the  river,  rapidly 
increasing  in  volume  and  depth  until  the 
deep  muttering  grew  into  a  hoarse  thun 
der.  Understanding  what  the  solemn 
warning  meant,  Captain  Willey  cried, — 

"  Hark,  Polly  !  it  is  coming.  There 
is  no  mistaking  that  sound.  Quick — the 
children — the  refuge — before  it  is  too 
late." 

Mrs.  Willey  was  already  beside  the 
children  trying  to  rouse  them  for  the 
flight  from  the  house,  which  it  was  felt 
was  in  the  direct  course  of  the  oncoming 
slide. 

Two  men  employed  by  Captain  Willey 
rushed  into  the  room,  for  the  noise  was 
now  so  loud  and  ominous  as  to  arouse  the 
deepest  sleeper.  The  rain  had  ceased, 
and  a  few  straggling  stars  were  to  be 


In  the  Path  of  the  Avalanche    23 

seen  as  the  little  group  of  frightened  peo 
ple  reached  the  doorway.  The  tower 
ing  mountain  trembled  from  pinnacle  to 
base  under  the  mighty  power  assailing  it, 
and  the  cottage  home  under  its  frowning 
heights  rocked  like  a  cradle. 

The  better  to  protect  themselves  in 
their  place  of  refuge  the  men  seized  bed 
ding  to  bear  to  the  retreat,  while  Mrs. 
Willey  undertook  to  guide  the  children 
there.  Eliza,  the  oldest,  was  but  twelve, 
an  exceedingly  bright  and  attractive  girl, 
while  there  were  Jeremiah,  aged  eleven, 
Martha,  aged  nine,  Elbridge,  seven,  and 
Sally,  in  her  mother's  arms,  only  three. 
Elbridge  clung  to  his  older  sister,  and 
the  rest  kept  beside  their  mother. 

The  roar  of  the  maddened  river  was 
deafening,  but  the  thunder  rolling  down 
from  the  mountain  behind  them  was  more 
terrifying.  No  pen  has  yet  written  the 
horror  of  that  situation ;  imagination  is 
not  vivid  enough  to  portray  it. 


24  Soltaire 

"  Beware  the  pine  tree's  withered  branch 
Beware  the  awful  avalanche !" 

In  that  dreadful  flight  Martha  slipped 
and  fell.  Her  mother  was  trying  to  find 
her  when  the  awful  storm  reached  the  little 
party.  The  feeble  cries  of  the  ill-fated 
family  were  lost  in  the  grinding  of  rocks 
upon  rocks,  the  descent  of  forests  upon 
billows  of  earth,  the  crash,  the  shock,  the 
reverberation.  Past  the  chosen  spot  of 
death  and  desolation  the  runaway  river 
swept  on  to  more  peaceful  scenes,  while 
overhead  the  pale  stars  increased  in 
numbers,  and  the  moon  struggled  into 
sight,  the  cheerless  watcher  of  a  cheer 
less  night. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SOLTAIRE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS. 

"  There  's  a  mercy  in  every  place, 

And  mercy,  encouraging  thought, 
Gives  every  affliction  a  grace, 
And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot." 

About  the  time  the  deepening  shades 
of  night  were  settling  upon  the  mountain 
scene,  shutting  out  alike  the  landscape 
and  the  storm  pelting  it  with  summer 
fury,  a  solitary  figure  was  outlined  on 
the  brink  of  one  of  the  rocky  escarp 
ments  above  the  Willey  home.  He  pre 
sented,  even  for  that  wild  region,  a 
picturesque  appearance. 

He  was  not  an  old  man,  certainly  un 
der  fifty,  though  his  hair  hanging  in  wav 
ing  masses  about  his  shoulders  and  his 
long  and  heavy  beard  were  plentifully 
streaked  with  silver  threads.  In  height 
he  was  scarcely  under  seven  feet,  and  his 


26  Soltaire 

stalwart  figure  was  clothed  in  a  jacket  of 
fox  skins  and  breeches  of  buckskin.  His 
feet  were  encased  in  moccasins  and  his 
head  covered  with  a  coonskin  cap,  the 
tail  of  the  animal  hanging  down  his  back. 
His  only  weapon  was  a  long-barreled 
rifle  slung  over  his  left  shoulder. 

Shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  he 
peered  long  and  earnestly  into  the  val 
ley  at  his  feet  without  moving  a  muscle. 
Finally  he  said  aloud,  as  if  speaking  to 
another, — 

"  I  '11  climb  my  old  outpost  for  a  peep 
into  their  home,  and  then  I  '11  go  back  to 
the  Soltaryage.  Ugh !  the  storm  rises 
fast ;  it 's  going  to  be  a  tough  night  for 
one  to  be  abroad." 

With  these  words  he  swung  himself 
down  the  ledge  and  descended  the  moun 
tain  for  some  distance  until  he  came 
to  a  huge  oak,  whose  wide-spreading 
branches  grew  almost  to  the  ground. 
Without  stopping  to  look  around  he 
began  to  climb  this  tree,  showing  by  the 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains       27 

readiness  with  which  he  grasped  branch 
after  branch  in  his  ascent  that  he  was 
following  an  old,  familiar  way.  When 
he  had  ascended  the  oak  for  fifty  feet  or 
more  he  paused,  but  soon  began  to  crawl 
out  on  one  of  its  long  arms,  which  inter 
locked  with  those  of  a  mighty  pine,  the 
tallest  and  largest  tree  in  that  vicinity. 

He  was  quickly  among  the  lowest 
branches  of  the  pine,  and  his  object  in 
ascending  the  oak  was  now  apparent. 
He  had  made  that  a  ladder  for  him  to 
reach  the  available  portion  of  the  tower 
ing  pine. 

He  did  not  stop  on  this  stage  of  his 
journey  until  he  was  well  into  the  heavy 
top  of  the  latter  tree,  where  he  paused, 
and  throwing  one  leg  over  a  branch  to 
steady  himself,  parted  the  dense  foliage 
to  look  out  upon  the  scene  below. 

He  had  an  extended  view  up  and 
down  the  valley,  but  he  looked  in  neither 
direction,  quickly  focusing  his  gaze  on  a 
spot  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  This 


28  Soltaire 

objective  point  was  the  home  of  the 
Willeys,  above  which  a  thin  smoke  was 
swept  by  the  gale  from  the  low,  wide- 
mouthed  chimney.  No  one  was  astir 
about  the  lonely  place  so  far  as  the  soli 
tary  watcher  could  see. 

For  ten  minutes  he  looked  steadily  in 
that  direction  without  shifting  his  posi 
tion.  The  wind  howled  through  the  tree- 
tops  with  rising  fury  and  the  rain  beat 
into  his  face  with  merciless  attacks ;  but 
he  paid  no  heed  to  either,  until  at  last 
he  seemed  suddenly  to  awaken  to  his 
situation. 

"Whew!  if  old  Boreas  keeps  on  at 
this  rate  he  will  blow  the  big  hills  over 
and  the  flood  will  wash  them  away.  I 
have  tarried  here  too  long  if  I  wish  to  get 
home  before  it  is  dark.  I  must  go." 

Moving  slowly  back  toward  the  trunk 
of  the  pine,  seeming  to  have  accom 
plished  his  purpose  in  making  this  labo 
rious  trip,  he  slipped  on  the  wet  bark. 
In  trying  to  save  himself  his  right  foot 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains        29 

caught  between  two  boughs,  which  alone 
saved  him  from  a  hundred-feet  fall. 

Though  saved  from  death  from  such  a 
tremendous  fall,  he  found  when  he  tried 
to  extricate  his  foot  that  it  was  held  fast 
and  firm  in  the  vise-like  grip.  After 
many  futile  attempts  to  free  himself  he 
was  fain  to  rest  from  his  efforts  by  grasp 
ing  one  of  the  smaller  limbs  over  his 
head.  In  a  few  minutes  he  renewed  his 
struggles,  but  his  foot  only  seemed  the 
more  tightly  held  in  its  fastenings. 

Darkness  set  in  and  the  storm  grew 
more  violent,  while  he  hung  there  sus 
pended  between  the  frowning  sky  and 
the  deluged  earth. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  startling  sound. 
A  mighty  boulder,  torn  from  its  bed  on 
the  mountain  side,  went  hurtling  into  the 
valley  a  thousand  feet  below.  The  thun 
der  of  its  downward  career  awoke  the 
echoes  of  the  hills  far  and  near,  sending 
to  his  heart  chill  foreboding  of  what  might 
follow.  Scarcely  had  the  reverberations 


30  Soltaire 

died  away  ere  other  rocks  went  crashing 
through  the  mountain  forest,  bounding 
from  cliff  to  cliff  in  their  appalling  de 
scent,  and  drowned  even  the  shrieks  of 
the  wind,  the  roar  of  the  flood,  and  the 
peals  of  the  thunder. 

Sharp  flashes  of  lightning  every  now 
and  then  cutting  in  twain  the  black  cur 
tain  of  gloom  showed  him  in  their  swift- 
passing  gleams  sights  which  thrilled  him 
with  horror.  Whole  forests  of  trees  were 
lifted  bodily  into  the  air  and  borne  away 
as  upright  and  majestic  as  on  their  origi 
nal  footing  for  a  short  distance,  then  to  be 
torn  apart  and  engulfed  in  the  terrible 
river  of  destruction  sweeping  down  the 
side  of  the  mountain. 

Louder  and  more  appalling  grew  the 
wild  sounds  of  this  elemental  reign  of 
terror,  until  the  whole  mountain  seemed 
to  be  starting  on  a  furious  march  to  the 
lowlands,  and  the  imprisoned  man  re 
newed  his  efforts  to  break  from  his  captiv 
ity  with  more  frantic  attempts  than  ever. 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains       3 1 

"O  God!"  he  cried,  "  the  mountain 
is  coming  down  upon  me.  I  am  lost !  " 

He  had  witnessed  many  wild  scenes, 
but  nothing  like  this.  Huge  trees  were 
tossed  into  the  air  like  feathers,  and  then 
disappeared  in  the  boiling  tide.  The  roar 
was  deafening. 

Then  the  giant  pine  holding  him  sus 
pended  high  over  that  awful  scene  felt 
the  mighty  power  of  destruction.  It 
shook  like  a  reed,  and  then  it,  too, 
was  fairly  lifted  upon  the  bosom  of  the 
avalanche. 

By  the  furious  shock  he  was  freed 
from  the  grip  holding  him,  but  he  was 
glad  now  to  cling  to  the  matted  branches 
of  the  tree  for  his  life.  Turning  over 
and  over  as  it  was  swept  along  by  the 
swirling  waters  and  debris,  the  pine  was 
flung  like  a  bit  of  brush  upon  the  surface 
and  carried  down  the  mountain  side  with 
its  human  freight. 

Protected  by  its  intermingling  branches 
the  helpless  man  felt  that  he  was  being 


32  Soltaire 

borne  on  to  a  fate  from  which  there  was 
no  escape.  In  the  midst  of  this  awful 
journey  something  which  seemed  like  a 
human  body  was  thrown  almost  into  his 
face.  Putting  out  one  hand  he  caught 
upon  the  dress  of  a  woman  or  child.  He 
drew  the  limp  figure  to  the  branch  be 
side  him.  He  thought  her  dead,  but 
there  was  a  possibility  that  she  was 
living,  and  he  resolved  to  save  her. 

Though  still  carried  on  at  a  terrific 
rate,  the  huge  tree  was  moving  more 
slowly  than  before,  and  he  found  it  less 
difficult  to  maintain  his  precarious  posi 
tion.  Then  there  was  a  sudden  jerk,  as 
the  broad  network  of  roots  caught  upon 
some  obstacle  and  the  pine  was  checked 
in  its  course.  Trembling  like  a  living 
creature  caught  in  the  toils  of  some  giant 
power,  the  tree  swayed  to  and  fro  until 
its  top  was  lifted  upon  the  crest  of  the 
swift  current  and  tossed  aside,  as  if  now 
a  useless  thing  of  the  flood.  The  bran 
ches  became  entangled  in  the  brushwood 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains       33 

of  the  land,  and  the  monarch  pine  rested 
from  its  wild  ride,  rising  and  falling 
with  the  heaving  of  the  sullen  river,  but 
no  longer  rushing  on  with  its  angry 
waters. 

The  man  lost  no  time  in  trying  to 
leave  his  perilous  position,  and  carrying 
his  seemingly  lifeless  companion  with 
him  he  crept  toward  the  extreme  top  of 
the  tree.  Reaching  the  ends  of  the 
branches  he  dropped  into  the  water,  and 
bravely  battling  with  the  elements,  a  few 
minutes  later  he  stood  at  a  distance  from 
the  surging  river,  though  drenched  by 
the  storm  and  well-nigh  exhausted  by 
his  arduous  struggles. 

Thinking  solely  now  of  the  helpless 
creature  in  his  arms,  he  sought  as  shel 
tered  a  spot  as  possible,  and  under  a 
clump  of  spruces  laid  her  gently  on  the 
bed  of  boughs  he  had  hastily  spread  on 
the  soaked  earth.  It  was  too  dark  for 
him  to  see  her  features,  but  he  soon  found 
that  her  heart  had  not  ceased  beating. 


34  Soltaire 

"She  lives,"  he  thought,  "but  more 
than  that  I  cannot  tell.  She  is  a  child 
of  not  more  than  nine  or  ten  years. 
Probably  she  belonged  to  one  of  the 
unfortunate  families  in  the  pathway  of 
the  flood — My  God  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as 
if  a  new  thought  had  come  to  him, 
"  what  if  she  is  her  child,  Polly's  child? 
Their  home  must  have  stood  in  the  path 
of  the  avalanche.  I  cannot  find  them 
now,  and  I  can  do  no  better  than  to 
return  to  my  home.  The  storm  is  abat 
ing  ;  it  will  soon  clear  away,  but  what 
desolation  it  will  leave  in  its  path  !" 

He  again  took  the  unconscious  girl  in 
his  arms,  and  carrying  her  with  appar 
ent  ease,  advanced  with  rapid  steps 
through  the  forest  in  the  direction  of  the 
mountains  as  if  he  were  traversing  famil 
iar  grounds. 

Three  hours  later  he  stopped  at  the 
foot  of  Black  Mountain,  and  then  be 
gan  its  rugged  ascent.  The  storm  had 
cleared  away,  and  a  new  day  greeted 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains       35 

him  ere  he  halted  again.  He  was  stand 
ing  in  a  primeval  wilderness  whose 
broken  landscape  showed  no  signs  of  a 
human  habitation,  and  merely  casting  a 
glance  around  as  if  to  see  that  he  was 
not  observed,  he  pulled  aside  a  dense 
curtain  of  running  hemlock,  when  a 
dark  opening  appeared  in  the  moun 
tain  side.  Bearing  his  burden  on  one 
arm  now,  leaving  the  other  free  to 
assist  him  in  his  entrance  into  the  earth, 
he  boldly  stepped  into  the  gloomy  fis 
sure.  The  fringe  of  bushes  fell  back 
into  its  accustomed 'position,  and  no  one 
would  have  dreamed  of  the  concealed 
retreat. 

He  was  compelled  to  grope  his  way 
along  in  the  intense  darkness,  but  after 
going  a  short  distance  he  stopped,  and 
laid  his  charge  down  upon  a  pallet  of 
bearskins  as  accurately  as  if  the  under 
ground  apartment  had  been  lighted. 
Taking  a  pitch  knot  from  the  rocky  wall, 
by  the  aid  of  flint  and  steel  he  started 


36  Soltaire 

a  bright  blaze,  which  threw  an  ever- 
changing  light  over  the  strange  scene. 

The  walls  of  this  subterranean  home 
were  about  twenty  feet  in  length  by  fif 
teen  in  width,  and  some  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  feet  in  height,  drawing  in  together 
from  the  four  quarters  as  they  approached 
the  top.  A  little  beyond  the  centre  was 
a  fissure  overhead,  which  afforded  ven 
tilation  for  the  place  and  an  exit  to  the 
smoke  coming  from  the  fire. 

Finding  that  the  child  was  slowly 
recovering  her  consciousness,  he  quickly 
built  a  fire,  and  soon  had  herbs  steaming 
over  the  coals. 

By  the  time  this  had  befen  accom 
plished  the  girl  was  moving  uneasily  on 
her  rude  couch,  moaning  and  crying 
feebly.  The  light  of  the  torch  enabled 
him  to  see  that  she  had  received  a  severe 
blow  on  the  head,  and  there  were  num 
erous  marks  and  bruises  on  her  limbs 
and  body,  though  she  had  not  suffered 
any  broken  bones. 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains       37 

He  made  her  drink  a  generous  draught 
of  the  liquid  he  had  prepared,  after  which 
she  sank  into  a  refreshing  slumber,  while 
he  watched  beside  her. 

It  was  past  midday  before  the  youth 
ful  sleeper  awoke,  and  all  of  the  time 
her  watcher  had  not  left  her  side.  He 
was  instantly  bending  over  her,  but  not  a 
word  that  she  said  was  intelligible  to  him. 

Days  and  weeks  of  anxiety  to  the  one 
and  of  suffering  to  the  other  followed 
before  the  young  invalid  was  able  to  sit 
up  and  converse  with  her  kind  guardian. 
Then  he  made  a  strange  and  startling 
discovery.  She  could  talk  intelligently 
with  him  in  regard  to  the  present,  but 
she  had  no  memory  of  the  past.  That 
stormy  night  and  all  before  it  were  a 
blank  to  her. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said  in  reply  to  her 
anxious  questions,  "those  are  the  hap 
piest  who  have  no  past  to  haunt  them. 
Memories  are  the  thorns  on  the  rose 
bushes  of  the  present." 
3 


38  Soltaire 

He  had  told  her  how  she  had  come  to 
him  while  he  had  drifted  on  the  bosom 
of  the  flood,  of  his  escape,  and  of  bring 
ing  her  to  this,  his  primitive  home. 

"I  must  have  folks  somewhere,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  must  find  them." 

"Not  yet,"  he  replied  soothingly. 
"You  are  too  weak.  If  you  do  not 
mind  staying  here  alone  a  few  hours  I 
will  see  what  I  can  learn.  I  will  not  be 
gone  longer  than  I  can  help." 

She  gladly  agreed  to  this  proposition, 
when  he  set  out  on  his  errand  of  investi 
gation,  hopeful  yet  fearful. 

Beautiful  summer  weather  succeeded 
the  storm,  but  the  sunny  sky  was  an 
azure  canopy  over  a  scene,  in  the  Saco 
valley,  of  devastation  and  desolation. 
The  river  rolled  sullen  and  yellow,  while 
the  smitten  mountains  stood  grim  and 
scarred  against  the  blue  field  of  heaven. 
Mount  Willey  raised  a  riven  front,  while 
its  mate  was  torn  from  top  to  base.  Up 
and  down  the  narrow  valley  ruin  and  dis- 


Soltaire  of  the  Mountains        39 

aster  greeted  the  eye  as  far  as  it  could 
see — heaps  of  gravel,  domes  of  quaking 
mud,  scattered  drift-wood,  relics  of  giant 
trees  shattered  and  blasted,  lay  every 
where,  with  great  boulders  flung  from 
their  beds  high  up  on  the  heights,  the 
road  blocked  and  the  river  choked  with 
this  mingling  mass  of  earth  and  vegeta 
tion. 

Amid  the  work  of  ruin  one  little  spot 
had  been  spared — one  home  had  escaped 
the  fury  of  the  avalanche,  though  its 
occupants  had  fled  in  terror  before  the 
oncoming  monster.  On  a  rock  a  short 
distance  above  the  Willey  house  the  slide 
had  been  torn  in  twain,  a  part  passing 
on  either  hand.  Had  the  doomed  family 
remained  within  the  walls  of  their  dwell 
ing  they  might  have  lived,  but  that  was 
not  to  be. 

When  the  search  came  to  be  made  for 
the  missing  ones,  it  was  believed  that  all 
had  perished.  It  was  true  the  bodies  of 
three  of  the  children — Jeremiah,  Elbridge 


4O  Soltaire 

and  Martha — were  not  found,  but  it  was 
conjectured  that  they  had  been  buried 
under  the  debris,  their  tomb  for  all  time. 
The  others  were  found  where  they  had 
been  overtaken,  and,  as  if  He  had  set  His 
seal  upon  the  work,  above  the  spot  where 
the  eldest  daughter,  beautiful  Mary,  was 
found,  white  everlasting  grows. 

The  searcher  learned  all  this  from  ob 
servation  rather  than  from  the  words  of 
others,  for  he  held  aloof  from  every  one, 
and  went  back  to  his  lonely  home  with 
sealed  lips. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  repeated  to  her. 
"  You  and  I  are  all  there  are  left.  You 
have  only  to  begin  a  new  life.  You  will 
need  some  name  and  I  will  christen  you 
Martha.  You  may  call  me  Soltaire,  and 
this  home  of  yours  and  mine  is  the  Sol- 
taryage." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    GREAT     CARBUNCLE. 

"We  found  good  store  of  curious  stones,  that 
we  esteemed  to  he  diamonds." — Old  Manuscript. 

Martha,  as  the  young  girl  was  to  be 
known,  was  fain  to  accept  the  well- 
meant  advice  of  her  rescuer,  and  during 
the  days  which  followed  he  ministered 
faithfully  to  her  comfort.  Nothing 
pleased  him  more  than  to  sit  beside  her, 
talking  in  a  simple,  straightforward  man 
ner,  yet  often  of  things  beyond  her  child 
ish  comprehension. 

When  she  had  become  stronger  Sol- 
taire  led  her  to  the  place  of  exit  from  this 
strange  abode,  saying,  as  he  carefully 
parted  the  shrubbery  at  the  opening  : 

"  Be  careful  and  step  in  my  footsteps. 
Just  to  our  right  yawns  the  mouth  of  a 
bottomless  pit,  concealed  by  the  over 
hanging  bushes." 


42  Soltaire 

She  shuddered  at  his  words  and  shrank 
nearer  to  him,  but  the  black  fissure  was 
forgotten  a  moment  later,  as  together 
they  looked  out  upon  the  panorama  of 
forests  and  mountains.  At  their  feet  lay 
a  sort  of  huge  basin  formed  in  the  lap  of 
the  mighty  hills.  A  dense  wood  covered 
the  depression  from  the  bottom  far  up 
toward  its  green  and  golden  rim,  for  the 
frost  of  autumn  had  now  touched  the  hard 
woods  with  its  variegated  hues,  lending  a 
matchless  charm  to  the  scene.  A  broken 
circle  of  mountains  surrounded  them, 
their  crests  aflame  with  the  golden  tints 
of  the  setting  sun. 

"  How  beautiful, "she  exclaimed,  "  and 
yet  how  lonely  those  towering  peaks 
look." 

"  But  it  is  the  loneliness  of  God,"  he 
said,  impressively. 

"What  is  there  beyond  the  moun 
tains?"  she  asked  in  childish  innocence. 

"Mountains,"  he  replied,  slowly. 

"And  beyond  them  ?  " 


The  Great  Carbuncle  43 

"More  mountains." 

"  I  mean  beyond  all  the  mountains  !" 
she  inquired,  impatiently. 

"  The  sun,"  he  answered.  "Why  vex 
your  pretty  little  head  with  such  useless 
questions?  We  have  no  need  of  such 
knowledge." 

"You  say  that  this  is  the  .world  that 
God  made?" 

"And  so  it  is." 

"  For  you  and  me?" 

"Yes." 

"And  are  there  no  others  to  enjoy  it?" 

"Is  it  not  enough  that  it  is  for  us?  In 
all  this  mountain-environed  world  we  are 
the  only  human  beings  to  live  and  enjoy 
it.  But  see,  the  sun  has  disappeared  be 
hind  the  rocky  ramparts  and  it  is  grow 
ing  chilly.  Let  us  return  to  the  fire." 

With  a  last  lingering  look  over  the 
scene  she  followed  him  back  into  the 
cavern  home,  and  as  he  threw  more 
wood  upon  the  slumbering  embers  the 
flames  leaped  up  anew,  making  wild, 


44  Soltaire 

grotesque  figures  on  the  stony  walls 
around  them.  Sometimes  these  took  on 
the  shape  of  huge  quadrupeds,  and  again 
the  giant  figure  of  her  companion  was 
outlined  on  the  rocks  with  a  vividness 
which  made  her  start  and  cover  her  face. 

The  days  which  succeeded  were  very 
much  like  this.  Soltaire  busied  himself 
with  bringing  in  a  huge  store  of  dried 
and  green  wood,  very  much  to  her 
amazement,  for  though  the  nights  were 
growing  colder  and  their  watch  of  the 
setting  sun  was  made  more  uncomfortable 
from  day  to  day,  the  long,  cold  winter  of 
that  exposed  situation  was  something  un 
known  to  her. 

All  too  soon  there  came  an  afternoon 
when  they  were  compelled  to  forego  the 
pleasure  of  their  visit  to  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern,  and  were  glad  to  hover  over  the 
blazing  fire. 

"There  will  be  a  big  snowstorm  to 
night,"  said  Soltaire,  "  and  to-morrow 
winter  will  set  in." 


The  Great  Carbuncle  45 

It  is  needless  to  describe  the  dreary 
loneliness  of  that  long  period  of  wintry 
solitude.  Only  at  rare  intervals  was  the 
strong  man  allowed  by  his  young  mis 
tress  to  go  forth  in  quest  of  some  belated 
deer  or  animal  whose  flesh  would  be 
come  their  means  of  sustenance.  A  few 
times  she  went  to  the  rock-door  of  the 
Soltaryage,  and  then  the  scene  without 
was  so  cheerless,  and  the  mountain  wind 
cut  so  keenly,  that  she  was  glad  to  seek 
the  sombre  warmth  within. 

Then  spring  unlocked  the  frozen  bolts 
of  winter,  and  the  mountains  took  on  the 
beauty  of  a  new  life.  She  was  happier 
now.  These  alternations  of  the  seasons 
— the  coming  of  summer,  the  short  pas 
sage  of  autumn,  the  long  reign  of  win 
ter  and  transitions  of  spring — were  the 
principal  events  in  the  lives  of  this  twain 
for  eight  mountain  years. 

He  had  changed  as  little  as  the  moun 
tains  among  which  he  lived.  There 
may  have  been  a  few  threads  of  silver 


46  Soltaire 

added  to  the  long  tangled  locks,  and  a 
wider  train  of  white  adown  the  wide 
field  of  beard,  an  added  wrinkle  or  two, 
but  the  eye  was  as  bright  as  ever,  and 
the  herculean  figure  as  erect  as  on  the 
stormy  night  when  he  had  hung  im 
prisoned  in  the  arms  of  the  pine  sentinel 
of  Mount  Willard. 

It  was  different  with  her.  The  age 
of  a  girl  of  nine  years  nearly  doubled 
makes  her  a  maid  crossing  the  mystic 
border  between  childhood  and  woman 
hood.  She  was  very  beautiful :  her  beau 
ty  was  enhanced  by  the  picturesque- 
ness  of  her  strange  dress,  which  had 
long  since  replaced  that  worn  by  her  on 
that  memorable  night  of  the  avalanche. 
It  was  made  of  the  skins  of  the  silver 
fox  and  so  deftly  arranged  as  to  form  an 
attractive  as  well  as  unusual  attire. 

If  the  years  had  dragged  slowly  with 
her  they  had  left  only  their  sunlight  on 
her  radiant  countenance.  If  she  had  at 
times  felt  a  secret,  mysterious  longing 


The  Great  Carbuncle  47 

for  something  beyond  her  circumscribed 
life  it  had  not  found  a  realization. 

A  worn  and  soiled  book  had  made  up 
the  library  of  the  strange  anchorite  with 
whom  she  had  had  a  home  so  long,  and 
from  it  he  had  taught  her.  As  her  text 
book  was  his  mother's  Bible — he  had 
confessed  to  so  much — its  teaching  may 
be  imagined  to  have  had  a  spiritual 
effect  upon  her  impressive  mind.  He 
had  gone  beyond  the  word  of  the  Good 
Book  and  told  her  of  the  world  in 
general,  but  never  a  hint  of  its  people. 
Such  an  apt  scholar  had  she  proved  that 
she  often  read  to  him  for  hours  from  the 
sacred  volume — sacred  to  them  in  more 
senses  than  one. 

One  thing  in  the  conduct  of  her  guar 
dian  puzzled  her.  At  irregular  intervals 
he  was  wont  to  leave  her  for  hours  at  a 
time,  and  once  he  had  remained  away 
several  days.  He  said  that  he  had  fallen 
and  hurt  his  ankle,  but  aside  from  this 
brief  excuse  he  offered  no  explanation. 


48  Soltaire 

This  was  not  only  a  source  of  mystery 
to  her  but  of  anxiety,  for  she  dreaded  to 
be  left  there  alone.  At  last,  during  one 
of  his  periodical  visits,  she  grew  so  rest 
less  and  uneasy  that  she  resolved  to 
follow  him.  She  had  often  noted  the 
direction  he  had  taken,  and  she  believed 
that  she  could  go  a  considerable  dis 
tance  and  there  wait  until  he  was  on  his 
way  back  and  thus  meet  him. 

It  was  a  pleasant  summer  afternoon 
and  the  mountains  had  never  looked 
more  beautiful,  but  her  view  of  them  was 
soon  lost  as  she  descended  into  the  val 
ley.  But  despite  her  surroundings  the 
brave  girl  pressed  on  in  the  direction  she 
believed  Soltaire  had  followed,  until  she 
grew  tired.  Then,  when  she  came  to  look 
closer  at  the  course  she  was  pursuing, 
she  was  dismayed  to  find  that  the  tracks 
of  the  hermit  were  no  longer  to  be  seen. 
She  made  a  hurried  survey  of  the  ground 
in  that  vicinity,  but  no  trace  of  him  she 
had  been  following  was  to  be  found. 


The  Great  Carbuncle  49 

Still  she  did  not  believe  she  had 
wandered  far  from  the  path,  and  she 
was  about  to  seat  herself  upon  one  of 
the  roots  of  a  gnarled  old  maple,  when 
she  was  startled  by  hearing  a  loud 
growl  near  at  hand,  and  upon  looking 
in  that  direction  she  discovered  a  bear 
rushing  toward  her ! 

Her  first  thought  was  of  flight,  and 
with  a  loud,  piercing  scream  she  started 
around  the  tree.  The  lumbering  brute 
was  so  close  upon  her  that  she  did  not 
dare  to  take  a  direct  course  into  the 
forest,  but  as  his  second  growl  rang  in 
her  ears  she  darted  in  a  circle  around 
the  maple.  This  tree  was  of  a  singular 
shape,  having  a  sort  of  arm  protruding 
from  one  side  a  few  feet  above  the 
ground,  which  after  growing  in  a  hori 
zontal  direction  for  three  or  four  feet 
turned  straight  up  into  the  air,  form 
ing  a  second  tree  slightly  smaller  than 
the  parent  stem  but  with  a  wide-spread 
ing  top  of  nearly  equal  height. 


50  Soltaire 

Fear  lending  her  strength  and  agility 
she  sprang  into  this  arm  where  she 
turned  desperately,  though  hopelessly, 
at  bay. 

The  bear  stopped  in  his  pursuit,  and 
uttering  another  and  more  triumphant 
snarl,  reared  on  his  hind  feet  and  out 
stretched  his  paws  to  snatch  her  from  her 
retreat. 

Believing  now  that  she  was  lost,  the 
frightened  girl  uttered  another  scream, 
and  clung  to  the  maple  in  wild  affright. 

The  bear,  as  if  enjoying  the  terror  of 
his  victim,  slowly  raised  one  of  his  huge 
fore  paws  in  readiness  to  deal  the  fatal 
blow.  Then  a  clear,  manly  voice  rang 
upon  the  still  air, — 

"  Have  courage,  Miss,  until  I  can  get 
the  brute  within  range  without  endan 
gering  your  life." 

For  an  instant  she  felt  weaker  than 
before,  and  she  seemed  to  be  sinking. 
Then  she  rallied,  and  opening  her  eyes, 
discovered  the  figure  of  a  young  man 


The  bear  stopped  in  his  pursuit,  and  uttering  another  and 
more  triumphant  snarl  .  .  . 


The  Great  Carbuncle  51 

approaching  from  the  valley  below.  The 
bear  had  seen  him,  and  seemed  to  be 
hesitating  whether  to  finish  his  work  here 
or  turn  upon  this  enemy  who  had  so  sud 
denly  and  unexpectedly  appeared  upon 
the  scene. 

From  his  present  position  the  new 
comer  could  not  fire  without  risking  the 
life  of  her  upon  the  arm  of  the  maple. 
Even  she  realized  this,  and  wondered  h 
he  would  be  successful  in  accomplishing 
her  rescue  without  losing  his  own  life. 
But  he  showed  that  he  was  in  perfect 
command  of  himself,  and  not  for  a  mo 
ment  losing  sight  of  the  bear  he  shifted 
around  to  the  left.  The  beast  showed 
his  disapproval  of  this  act  by  several 
growls,  but  did  not  offer  to  move,  ap 
parently  puzzled  to  know  what  to  make 
of  the  situation. 

"Keep  calm  a  moment  longer,"  said 
the  stranger,  "and  I'll  fix  his  fate  for 
him." 

As  he  finished  his  speech  the  man  took 


52  Soltaire 

hasty  aim,  and  as  the  report  of  his  firearm 
rang  out  the  bear  uttered  a  furious  roar, 
rising  upon  his  hind  legs  as  he  did  so. 
Believing  him  about  to  spring  upon  her 
the  terrified  girl  reeled  backward,  and 
just  as  another  cry  of  mingled  rage  and 
pain  came  from  her  enemy,  she  fell  to 
the  ground  insensible. 

The  shot  was  fatal  to  the  bear,  for 
even  as  he  rose  on  his  haunches  to  deal 
the  blow  the  bullet  entered  his  brain,  and 
after  a  few  struggles  the  great  animal 
became  rigid  in  death. 

Confident  that  his  shot  would  be  fatal 
to  the  bear,  the  new-comer  did  not  waste 
any  time  upon  the  dying  brute,  but  sprang 
forward  to  the  side  of  the  unconscious 
maid.  First  carrying  her  to  a  safe  dis 
tance  from  the  bear,  he  began  to  try  to 
resuscitate  her.  A  brook  being  near  he 
ran  to  it  for  water,  which  he  brought 
in  his  hat,  sprinkling  her  brow  and  wet 
ting  her  wrists  with  the  liquid.  A  few 
drops  of  blood  oozed  from  a  slight  cut  on 


The  Great  Carbuncle  53 

the  side  of  her  head,  but  beyond  this  he 
did  not  believe  she  had  been  injured. 

The  correctness  of  his  reasoning  was 
soon  shown  when  she  opened  her  eyes, 
to  gaze  up  into  his  anxious  countenance 
with  a  bewildered  look. 

"  The  bear  !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Can  never  harm  you,"  he  replied. 
"  I  trust  you  are  not  hurt." 

"  I  remember,"  she  said.  "You  shot 
the  bear  just  as  I  fell.  No,  I  do  not 
think  I  am  hurt,  only  frightened.  Oh, 
if  you  had  not  come  just  as  you  did  !" 

"Please  do  not  think  of  what  might 
have  been.  You  are  safe  from  the  brute, 
and  that  is  sufficient  for  us  to  rejoice." 

He  had  seen  that  she  was  very  beauti 
ful,  and  this  alone  might  have  been  suffi 
cient  for  him  to  have  given  her  more  than 
passing  attention.  But  he  had  been  at 
tracted  by  her  strange  appearance — her 
singular  attire.  At  first  he  had  naturally 
concluded  that  she  was  an  Indian  girl, 
who  had  strayed  into  that  country,  or 
4 


54  Soltaire 

who,  it  might  be,  lived  somewhere  in  the 
unexplored  districts  of  the  mountains. 
But  the  fairness  of  her  skin  had  quickly 
shown  him  his  error  in  that  direction. 
That  she  was  of  as  pure  white  blood  as 
himself  was  evident.  Who  then  could 
she  be,  and  why  was  she  attired  in  that 
strange  garb?  He  had  asked  himself 
these  questions  while  trying  to  bring  back 
the  color  to  her  cheeks  when  the  warm 
blood  should  again  course  with  its  normal 
activity  through  her  veins. 

If  she  was  both  a  surprise  and  a  mystery 
to  him,  he  was  doubly  so  to  her.  Having 
seen  only  the  wild  hermit  with  whom  she 
had  lived  so  long,  she  had  never  dreamed 
of  strength  and  beauty  such  as  were  pos 
sessed  by  this  unknown  person.  This 
fact  caused  her  for  the  time  to  forget  her 
actual  situation,  to  forget  Soltaire,  while 
she  looked  with  unfeigned  and  innocent 
pleasure  into  the  stranger's  countenance. 
She  saw  a  manly  face,  upon  which  hon 
esty  had  set  its  seal,  and  yet  as  she 


The  Great  Carbuncle  55 

gazed  she  grew  conscious  of  a  new  tim 
idity.  He  noticed  her  confusion,  and 
hastened  to  ask : 

"  Do  you  live  about  here?" 

"  Not  far  away.    Where  do  you  live?" 

"  My  home  is  many  miles  from  here, 
but  I  am  in  the  mountains  for  recrea 
tion." 

The  word  "  recreation"  had  no  mean 
ing  to  her,  while  she  only  partly  com 
prehended  the  rest. 

"Will  you  tell  me  your  name?"  he 
asked.  Then  seeing  her  hesitation,  and 
mistaking  its  meaning,  he  hastened  to 
say : 

"  Pardon  me  ;  mine  is  John  Wilbur.  I 
was  hunting  in  these  regions  when  hear 
ing  your  cry  for  help,  I  came  with  what 
rapidity  I  could.  If  you  feel  able  to 
undertake  such  a  journey,  which  I  judge 
cannot  be  long,  I  shall  be  happy  to  es 
cort  you  to  your  home." 

She  had  never  heard  the  word  "home" 
before.  But  she  did  not  need  the  magic 


56  Soltaire 

of  the  term  to  feel  that  she  was  drawn 
irresistibly  toward  this  handsome  person. 
For  the  first  time,  too,  she  realized  the 
importance  of  a  name.  But  before  she 
could  reply,  the  sound  of  approaching 
footsteps  fell  upon  their  ears.  Intuitively 
both  turned  to  look  for  the  new-comer, 
their  bosoms  filled  with  wild,  strange 
expectations,  as  Soltaire  quickly  emerged 
from  the  solitude  of  the  surrounding  for 
est  into  the  small  opening  encircling  the 
singular  maples. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  tell  which  was 
the  more  astonished,  the  hermit  or  the 
young  man  who  stood  silently  watching 
his  approach.  The  carcass  of  the  bear 
was  speedily  discovered  by  the  former, 
and  that  with  the  little  beads  of  blood  on 
the  head  of  his  protegee,  as  well  as  the  fire 
arm  of  the  stranger,  partially  explained 
the  situation  to  him. 

"  Have  you  been  hurt,  my  child?" 
"No,  father,  thanks  to  this  kind  per 
son,  I—" 


The  Great  Carbuncle  57 

"  How  came  you  here?"  he  demanded 
with  sudden  sternness,  as  he  seemed  to 
realize  that  there  was  something  pecu 
liar  in  her  being  so  far  from  their  dwell 
ing-place.  "  I  left  you  at  the  Soltary- 
age.  " 

"I  know  you  did,"  she  faltered,  not 
daring  to  confess  that  she  had  left  it  to 
follow  him.  "  I  hope  you  will  forgive 
me,  father,  for  I  meant  nothing  wrong." 

"  Well,  it  is  time  for  us  to  be  going," 
and  without  speaking  to  her  rescuer  he 
took  Martha  by  the  arm  and  led  her 
away,  while  the  young  man  gazed  after 
him  with  unfeigned  amazement.  The 
hermit  did  not  look  back,  and  the  other 
did  not  move  from  his  tracks  until  the 
stalwart  figure  of  the  mountaineer  had 
disappeared  in  the  growth. 

"  Well,  that  was  cool,"  he  declared 
sotto  voce.  "I  have  a  mind  to  follow 
the  giant.  She  was  beautiful,  but  what 
a  strange  garb  for  a  civilized  being  to 
wear  !  Who  can  they  be?  I  have  heard 


58  Soltaire 

there  were  strange  beings  living  in  the 
recesses  of  the  mountains,  and  now  I 
have  seen  the  proof  of  it." 

Martha  soon  recovered  her  compos 
ure,  but  in  silence  Soltaire  pursued  his 
course,  until  he  stopped  at  the  evergreen 
fringe  concealing  the  entrance  to  their 
home. 

"  What  meant  your  presence  with  that 
man?"  he  demanded  sternly.  She  trem 
bled  as  she  faltered  her  reply,  which  was 
a  confession  of  her  attempt  to  follow  him. 

This  was  a  painful  surprise  to  him,  and 
noting  his  look,  she  exclaimed : 

"I  could  not  help  it.  I  shall  die  if  I 
stay  here  longer.  Why  need  we  be  here 
alone?  I  long  to  see  something  of  the 
world." 

"It  has  come,"  he  said.  "I  might 
have  expected  it.  Youth  cannot  always 
be  kept  in  chains." 

",You  are  not  angry  with  me?" 

"No;  only  sorry.  This  unrest  will 
be  worse  than  death.  What  would  you 


The  Great  Carbuncle  59 

do  in  the  crowded  world?  But  I  suppose 
I  might  have  known  this.  Now  I  read 
the  future,  but  it  shall  not  be.  We  will 
leave  the  place  and  we  will  go  together. 
Before  we  go  I  have  a  story  to  tell  you 
and  a  secret  which  if  you  knew  more  of 
the  world  would  awaken  your  heart  with 
wild  rejoicing.  I  am  richer  than  Croe 
sus." 

Failing  to  catch  even  a  vague  idea  of 
what  he  meant,  she  looked  up  at  him 
with  wonder. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "I  am  rich.  I 
have  found  the  big  diamond  of  the  crys 
tal  hills.  Men  have  looked  for  it  far  and 
near,  but  it  was  left  for  me  to  discover 
the  hidden  treasure.  It  is  mine, — all 
mine !" 

At  the  words  he  threw  his  arms  above 
his  head,  and  began  a  wild  dance.  The 
girl,  affrighted,  shrank  from  him  with  a 
cry  which  instantly  recalled  him  to  his 
customary  manner. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said.    "  You  do  not 


60  Soltaire 

understand,  and  it  is  my  fault.  But  it 
shall  be  to  your  gain  as  well  as  mine 
that  I  have  made  this  wonderful  find. 
Listen  to  my  story  and  then  we  will  lose 
no  more  time  in  leaving  this  lonesome 
place  forever." 

Soltaire  then  proceeded  to  describe — 
in  his  honest,  simple  way,  the  sincerity  of 
which  could  not  be  doubted — the  old  be 
lief  in  the  great  carbuncle  which  the  early 
explorers  of  the  mountains  solemnly  af 
firmed  existed  somewhere  in  their  hidden 
recesses.  These  accounts  attracted  ad 
venturous  fortune  seekers  into  the  by 
ways  and  dangerous  places  of  the  White 
Hills  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  what  no 
one  else  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
discover.  The  journal  of  one  of  these 
deluded  carbuncle  seekers,  after  men 
tioning  much  that  he  had  heard,  goes  on 
to  say,  "  Hearing  that  a  glorious  carbun 
cle  had  been  found  under  a  large,  shelv 
ing  rock,  difficult  to  obtain,  placed  there 
by  the  Indians  who  killed  one  of  their 


The  Great  Carbuncle  61 

number,  that  an  evil  spirit  might  haunt 
the  place,  we  went  up  Dry  river  with 
guides,  and  had  with  us  a  good  man  to 
lay  the  evil  spirit,  but  returned  sorely 
bruised,  treasureless,  and  not  even  saw 
the  -wonderful sight" 

"What  others  looked  for  so  long  in 
vain,  and  at  great  sacrifice,"  Soltaire 
related,  "  I  found  quite  accidentally. 
Following  one  of  my  aimless  quests, 
when  I  traversed  a  wider  circuit  of  coun 
try  than  I  have  attempted  of  recent  years, 
I  was  one  afternoon  attracted  by  a  pecu 
liar  halo  that  seemed  to  hang  over  the 
horizon  ahead  of  me.  It  was  growing 
quite  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  west 
ering  sun  was  throwing  broad  bars  of 
silver  and  gold  over  the  dark  mantles  of 
the  forest-clad  mountains.  Yet,  think 
ing  this  scene  was  but  an  uncommon 
effect  of  the  sunlight,  I  kept  steadily  on 
without  paying  any  special  attention  to  it. 

"  But,  as  I  advanced,  it  continued  to 
grow  brighter,  while  the  beams  of  the 


62  Soltaire 

sun  on  the  mountain  sides  paled  upon 
nearer  approach.  I  remarked  this  with 
wonder,  and  continued  to  approach,  and 
the  nearer  I  drew,  the  brighter  became 
the  illumination. 

"  '  Surely,'  I  said  to  myself, '  this  is  no 
mere  trick  of  sunlight.  If  not,  what  can 
it  mean?  ' 

"Filled  with  such  emotions  as  I  cannot 
describe,  I  moved  toward  the  lightened 
wall  formed  by  the  highlands  with  their 
serrated  peaks.  The  brilliant  beams  now 
shone  far  up  on  the  rugged  front  of  old 
earth  before  me,  while  from  the  great 
central  orb,  as  it  seemed,  bright  stream 
ers  shot  out  in  every  direction,  like  the 
blazing  of  northern  lights. 

"  And,  as  I  drew  yet  nearer,  I  fancied 
I  could  hear  a  sharp  rustling  like  the 
moving  of  light  drapery,  while  mingled 
with  the  sounds  came  a  crackling  which 
caused  me  to  think  there  was  a  big  fire 
behind  it  all.  This  served  to  make  me 
advance  with  greater  caution,  and  twice, 


The  Great  Carbuncle  63 

as  I  stood  in  plain  view  of  the  intense 
radiance,  while  crossing  the  ridges  that 
lay  in  my  pathway,  I  felt  like  turning 
back.  But  no  sooner  had  I  again  begun 
to  descend  into  a  valley,  losing  some 
thing  of  the  intense  vividness  of  the 
sight,  than  I  was  spurred  to  advance 
once  more." 

"  In  spite  of  the  peculiar  danger  that 
constantly  threatened  me,  the  greater  to 
me  for  the  mystery  that  surrounded  it,  I 
persevered,  until  I  stood  on  a  high  ridge 
overlooking  a  narrow  valley,  and  found 
that  I  was  close  upon  the  centre  of  this 
rare  radiance  rilling  the  air  about  me. 
In  my  feverish  state  I  was  too  excited  to 
see  closely,  but  as  I  looked  down  into 
the  depths  at  my  feet  I  realized  that  the 
central  orb  of  this  wonderful  light  hung 
suspended,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  in  mid 
air,  like  a  sun  lodged  here  in  the  heart 
of  the  mountains  ! 

"  Away,  in  the  far  west,  the  orb  of 
day  was  slowly  sinking  behind  the  bul- 


64  Soltaire 

wark  of  rocky  heights,  while  below  me, 
sending  up  its  vivid  beams,  was  another 
sun,  whose  splendor  dazzled  me.  I  think 
I  must  have  lost  consciousness  for  a 
moment.  At  any  rate,  I  suddenly  grew 
weak,  and  began  to  totter  in  my  steps. 
Throwing  out  my  hands  I  remember  dis 
tinctly  clutching  a  small  tree  for  support. 
It  could  not  have  been  more  than  a  stunt 
ed  hemlock  or  fir,  scantily  rooted  on  the 
thin  layer  of  earth  covering  the  rock, 
for  it  gave  way  under  my  grasp,  and  I 
found  myself  pitching  forward  down  the 
descent. 

"  I  had  a  semi-consciousness  of  trying 
to  cling  to  rocks  and  vines  that  found  a 
precarious  hold  in  my  pathway,  but  none 
of  them  had  sufficient  strength  to  bear  up 
my  weight,  and  I  went  down — down — 
down  ! 

"When  I  recovered  consciousness  it 
was  broad  daylight,  but  now  that  I  looked 
upward  I  at  first  did  not  catch  the  sight 
of  my  stationary  sun.  But  a  second  look 


The  Great  Carbuncle  65 

disclosed  it  to  my  gaze,  and  if  less  bril 
liant  than  on  the  preceding  day — for  a 
whole  night  had  apparently  passed  since 
I  had  fallen  into  the  ravine — it  possessed 
greater  beauty  than  on  the  previous  occa 
sion.  I  came  to  know  that  I  had  fallen 
or  slipped  down  the  rocky  descent  for  a 
distance  of  many  feet.  And  the  central 
ball  of  light  hung  about  midway,  fastened 
to  the  granite  wall  by  a  slender  stem,  in 
a  spot  where  no  mortal  foot  but  mine 
had  ever  been.  Now  that  I  had  grown 
calmer  by  my  experience,  as  well  as 
sore  and  stiff  from  my  adventure,  I  saw 
that  it  was  a  gem  thrice  as  big  as  my 
head,  a  grand  treasure  of  the  mountains, 
that  sparkled  yet  with  wonderful  radi 
ance.  As  I  looked  at  it  I  could  feel  my 
eyes  reeling  in  my  head,  until  I  began  to 
grow  dizzy.  I  was  too  deeply  impressed 
with  its  magical  light  to  venture  to  re 
move  it.  Then,  what  could  I  do  with  it 
should  I  take  it  with  me  ? 

"  But  my  fortunes  have  changed  with 


66  Soltaire 

your  coming.  I  have  visited  the  isolated 
spot  many  times  since  that  day,  but  have 
never  molested  the  gem.  Now,  come 
with  me  and  you  shall  see  what  men 
have  thrown  away  their  lives  to  look 
upon,  but  have  never  found.  We  will 
obtain  it,  and  with  it  in  our  possession, 
will  bid  farewell  to  the  Soltaryage." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

BROKEN    TIES. 

"  Thus  would  I  live  my  bounded  age 

Far  in  the  forest  lone, 
Erased  from  human  nature's  page, 
Once  more  the  Godhead's  own." 

Without  delay,  Soltaire  prepared  to 
leave  the  Soltaryage,  Martha  viewing 
his  sudden  action  with  considerable  won 
der.  Vaguely  anticipating  the  result  she 
followed  him  out  into  the  summer  air. 

"  We  shall  come  back  here  before 
leaving  these  parts,"  he  said.  "For 
that  reason  we  need  not  take  anything 
we  may  wish  to  carry  away  with  us  when 
we  depart.  Step  in  my  tracks  as  much 
as  possible,  and  be  careful  you  do  not 
stumble.  It  is  not  very  far  to  where  we 
are  bound." 

In  silence,  save  for  the  sound  of  their 
footsteps,  the  couple  glided  through  the 


68  Soltaire 

forest,  where  most  romantic  scenery  in 
its  primitive  form  greeted  them  on  every 
hand.  Gradually  they  passed  from  the 
dark  old  forest  up  into  a  region  of  more 
dwarfed  growth,  where  frowning  cliffs 
constantly  overhung  them,  and  deep 
gorges  yawned  at  their  feet.  Along  un- 
pathed  recesses,  where  only  some  wild 
beast  had  entered,  they  advanced,  until 
at  last  they  penetrated  a  gloomy  ravine, 
the  roar  of  falling  water  filling  the  ears 
and  craggy  steeps  shutting  out  the  sun 
light. 

Soltaire  showed  no  signs  of  stopping, 
and  Martha  was  beginning  to  tire  of  this 
wild  quest,  when  a  dazzling  halo  of  light 
suddenly  flashed  across  her  vision.  He 
had  paused  at  last,  and  together  they 
stood  side  by  side,  where  the  scattered 
raindrops  from  the  waterfalls  fell  like  a 
shower  of  spray  over  them,  throwing 
upon  the  surrounding  foliage  a  liquid 
canopy  of  silvery  brightness. 

"  Look  !  "  he  exclaimed,  triumphantly ; 


"Look!"  he  exclaimed,  triumphantly ;  "behold  the 
mountain  jewel,  the  priceless  diamond !" 


Broken  Ties  69 

"behold  the  mountain  jewel,  the  price 
less  diamond !  " 

Rendered  the  more  bright  for  its  dark 
setting  she  saw  protruding  from  the 
rocky  wall  of  the  ravine  a  glittering 
stone  or  gem  of  matchless  purity.  It 
might  have  been  a  diamond  or  only  a 
rough  granite  boulder  encased  in  mica 
so  far  as  she  could  tell.  It  was  bright, 
and  the  sight  of  it  pleased  her.  But  her 
pleasure  was  nothing  beside  that  of  her 
companion,  who  fairly  danced  with  de 
light  he  did  not  try  to  conceal. 

"Isn't  it  glorious?  Nothing  they  have 
ever  told  equals  its  matchless  splendor, 
and  it  is  mine — yours  and  mine  !  "  he 
corrected.  "  See,  it  is  held  on  the  solid 
rock  by  a  slight  stem,  as  a  toadstool  is 
held  upon  the  log.  One  blow  will  break 
it  away.  Let  me  hurl  that  big  boulder 
down  upon  it  from  the  cliff  overhead." 

Upon  closer  inspection  Soltaire  found 
the  coveted  gem  was  simply  imbedded  or 
pinned  in  between  two  lips  of  the  cliff. 
5 


70  Soltaire 

At  first  he  almost  despaired  of  getting  it 
free.  But  two  hours  of  hard  work  was 
not  without  its  reward,  and  the  precious 
nugget  fell  from  its  resting-place  to  roll 
down  to  the  feet  of  Martha. 

Soltaire  was  quickly  beside  her,  now 
fairly  crazy  with  his  happiness.  He 
might  have  been  content  to  remain  there 
forever  had  not  she  finally  reminded  him 
that  it  was  time  for  them  to  think  of  re 
turning  to  the  Soltaryage  if  they  wished 
to  reach  their  cavern  before  dark.  Wrap 
ping  his  skin  jacket  about  his  treasure, 
the  hermit  led  the  way  back  over  the 
course  they  had  taken.  Following  now 
a  descending  path,  their  progress  was 
more  rapid  even  if  he  carried  what  un 
der  ordinary  circumstances  must  have 
been  a  burden  to  tire  a  less  strong  man. 
Still  the  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  ragged 
crest  of  the  distant  mountains  before  they 
reached  the  vicinity  of  their  retreat. 

All  had  gone  well  so  far,  but  when 
they  were  almost  home  Soltaire  missed 


Broken  Ties  71 

his  footing  and  fell  on  the  rocks,  the 
prize  in  his  hand  slipping  from  his  hold 
and  losing  its  covering  rested  upon  the 
very  brink  of  the  cliff. 

Her  companion  lay  so  still  and  his 
face  had  grown  so  white  that  Martha 
was  frightened,  and  she  ran  screaming 
to  his  side.  He  had  been  stunned  by  a 
blow  on  his  head,  beside  which  he  had 
sprained  an  ankle.  Of  the  last,  how 
ever,  she  was  ignorant,  and  finding  that 
he  did  not  rally  after  a  few  minutes  she 
grew  frantic.  In  vain  she  called  upon 
him  to  speak  or  move.  He  lay  like  one 
dead. 

In  her  hysterical  grief  she  thought 
only  of  getting  him  into  the  cave.  For 
tunately  they  were  still  above  the  en 
trance  and  but  a  short  distance  away. 
Seizing  his  shoulders,  she  began  to  drag 
him  toward  the  mouth  of  the  cavern.  Ex 
citement  and  grief  lending  her  strength, 
she  actually  pulled  him  to  the  entrance, 
and  then  along  the  underground  pas- 


72  Soltaire 

sage,  until  she  had  reached  the  pallet  of 
skins  and  leaves  near  the  spot  where  so 
many  years  before  he  had  laid  her  in 
sensible  form. 

A  wooden  dish  of  water  was  near  at 
hand,  and  in  her  excitement  she  deluged 
his  head  with  the  liquid.  Then  alarmed 
at  what  she  had  done  she  bent  over  him 
just  as  his  lips  began  to  move  and  he 
stirred  restlessly.  Soltaire  soon  recov 
ered  his  consciousness,  but  the  excite 
ment  through  which  he  had  passed,  as 
much,  if  not  more  than  the  fall,  made 
him  delirious,  and  for  days  he  lay  there 
tossing  feverishly  to  and  fro,  while  she 
ministered  to  him.  His  ravings,  for  he 
talked  for  hours,  were  of  the  carbuncle 
and  of  some  other  scene  of  which  she 
could  catch  no  tangible  form. 

Meanwhile  the  great  carbuncle,  which 
had  been  the  real  cause  of  all  this  anx 
iety,  was  lying  where  it  had  fallen  on 
the  rocks  just  outside  the  cavern.  But 
by  a  singular  combination  of  circum- 


Broken  Ties  73 

stances,  it  was  to  be  the  means  of  partly 
undoing  the  mischief  it  had  caused,  by 
guiding  thither  to  the  rescue,  the  young 
man  whom  Martha  had  met  in  her  ad 
venture  with  the  bear. 

She  had  made  such  an  impression  on 
this  impulsive  youth  that  her  image  re 
fused  to  leave  his  mind's  eye,  and  he 
found  himself  almost  continually  thinking 
of  her  and  wondering  who  she  could  be 
and  where  she  could  live.  Urged  on  by 
a  desire  to  find  her  abode,  if  such  an 
ethereal  being  as  she  appeared  to  him 
had  an  earthly  dwelling  place,  he  wan 
dered  far  and  wide  through  the  old,  gray 
forest,  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  the 
favored  spot. 

In  one  of  these  searches  he  went  far 
ther  than  he  had  ever  been  before  in  the 
direction  of  the  mountains  on  the  east,  so 
that  finally  he  was  forced  into  the  un 
comfortable  conclusion  that  he  was  lost. 
This,  he  realized,  not  only  threatened 
him  with  a  night  in  the  woods,  but  it 


74  Soltaire 

might  be  a  worse  fate — an  eternal  night 
in  the  wilderness. 

He  wandered  about  until  the  sun  was 
setting,  when,  hoping  to  get  a  view  of 
the  surrounding  country  which  would 
enable  him  to  see  some  landmark  to 
guide  him  home,  he  climbed  a  tall  pine. 
From  the  top  of  this  he  discovered  on  the 
side  of  a  mountain  what  he  at  first  be 
lieved  to  be  a  beacon  fire.  The  sight 
elated  him,  but  as  he  continued  to  watch 
and  saw  how  it  glistened,  he  was  puzzled 
to  know  what  it  meant,  and  his  feeling  of 
joy  turned  to  one  of  wonder.  Still,  fix 
ing  the  course  so  he  would  be  able  to 
reach  the  spot,  he  lost  little  time  in  start 
ing  in  that  direction. 

It  was  growing  dark  in  the  under 
growth  as  he  drew  near  the  location 
of  the  Soltaryage  and  the  resting-place 
of  the  great  carbuncle.  He  had  now 
quite  lost  sight  of  the  sparkling  object, 
but  a  sight  met  his  gaze  which  sent  all 
thought  of  the  other  from  his  mind. 


Martha  had  come  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and  push 
ing  aside  the  fir  drapery  stood  looking  upon  the  wide 
expanse. 


Broken  Ties  75 

As  she  had  done  every  day  since  her 
guardian  had  been  so  ill,  Martha  had 
come  to  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and 
pushing  aside  the  fir  drapery  stood  look 
ing  upon  the  wide  expanse  of  wildwood 
lying  at  her  feet.  It  was  she  that  the 
young  wanderer  saw,  and  she  discovered 
him  at  the  same  moment. 

Though  their  pleasure  sprung  from 
different  sources,  it  was  a  happy  meeting 
for  both.  He  quickly  related  his  mis 
fortune,  and  she  gladly  welcomed  him 
into  the  Soltaryage,  the  first  man,  beside 
its  older  occupant,  to  enter  its  lonely  pre 
cincts. 

The  new-comer,  John  Wilbur,  proved 
to  be  somewhat  of  an  adept  in  surgery 
and  in  the  art  of  healing,  so  that  he 
was  able  to  afford  Soltaire  the  assistance 
Martha  had  been  unable  to  supply.  From 
the  hour  that  he  entered  the  gloomy  place 
the  strange  anchorite  began  to  mend,  and 
Martha  was  happy.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that  Wilbur  remained  there  all  night, 


76  Soltaire 

and  it  was  past  noon  the  next  day  before 
he  thought  of  departing,  or  that  he  wil 
lingly  promised  to  come  again. 

Martha  accompanied  him  to  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern,  and  though  for  her  guar 
dian's  sake  she  would  fain  have  kept  the 
secret  of  the  close  proximity  of  the  great 
carbuncle  from  him,  Wilbur  had  learned 
too  much  to  be  allowed  to  depart  with 
out  seeing  it.  He  viewed  it  with  wonder, 
and  not  satisfied  with  looking  upon  it  as 
it  lay  there  glistening  in  the  sun  he  un 
dertook  to  move  it  slightly,  when,  to  his 
surprise  and  the  dismay  of  Martha,  it 
rolled  from  its  bed  and  went  tumbling 
into  the  deep  pit  near  by.  A  terrific 
noise  came  up  from  the  dark  orifice, 
growing  fainter  and  fainter  until  it  ended 
in  a  far-away  sound,  which  seemed  like 
the  plaintive  cry  of  a  panther  coming 
from  the  very  heart  of  the  earth. 

Wilbur  was  the  first  to  recover  enough 
to  speak,  but  nothing  that  he  could  say 
succeeded  in  quieting  the  fears  of  Mar- 


Broken  Ties  77 

tha,  who  believed  Soltaire  would  now 
go  crazy  over  his  loss.  Filled  with 
mingled  feelings  of  regret  and  dread, 
the  two  returned  to  tell  the  sad  news  to 
the  anchorite. 

At  first  he  showed  great  grief,  but  on 
second  thought  he  appeared  pleased. 

"  They  cannot  get  it  away  from  me," 
he  said  in  an  undertone.  "  I  will  find  a 
way  to  get  it  out  of  the  well  by  and  by." 

So  Soltaire,  who  in  truth  had  been 
frightened  that  any  one  had  discovered 
his  treasure,  to  the  surprise  of  his  com 
panions  was  glad  over  the  temporary, 
if  not  permanent,  loss,  and  the  three 
were  exceedingly  happy. 

It  is  needless  to  dwell  on  the  days 
that  followed,  until  Wilbur  declared, 
reluctantly,  that  his  summer  vacation 
must  end,  and  that  he  must  return  to  the 
haunts  of  busy  men.  He  had  fallen 
desperately  in  love  with  Martha,  and 
she  had  been  both  pleased  and  improved 
by  his  company.  He  had  visited  her 


7  8  Soltaire 

often,  and  on  one  of  his  visits  he  had 
brought  her  clothing  of  a  more  civilized 
pattern  to  wear.  Soltaire  was  not  of 
fended  at  this,  but  the  lovers  had  little 
reason  to  believe  he  would  listen  to  their 
story  of  longings  to  leave  that  isolated 
spot.  It  required  but  little  persuasion 
on  the  part  of  Martha  to  promise  to  go 
with  Wilbur  to  his  home,  but  she  had 
not  dared  to  broach  the  matter  to  Sol 
taire. 

But  if  the  mental  vision  of  the  anchor 
ite  was  blinded  to  other  things,  he  was 
not  unconscious  of  love's  young  dream. 
Thus  it  was  he  and  not  either  of  them 
who  first  spoke  of  the  thoughts  in  their 
minds. 

"  It  is  human  nature,"  he  said.  "  I 
read  it  the  day  of  your  adventure  with 
the  bear  under  the  maple  tree,  and  it 
was  that  warning  which  prompted  me  to 
prepare  for  a  hasty  departure.  I  do  not 
blame  you.  I  have  my  own  memories, 
for  I  was  young  once.  Depart  if  you 


Broken  Ties  79 

will  from  the  mountains,  and  the  old 
man  will  finish  his  days  here  alone, 
as  he  expected  before  your  coming, 
Martha." 

"You  must  go  with  us,  father.  You 
have  given  me  a  home  all  these  years  ; 
now  let  me  repay  the  debt." 

He  shook  his  head,  and  nothing  they 
could  say  influenced  him  then  to  change 
his  mind.  The  determination  on  his 
part  to  remain  in  his  seclusion  was  the 
only  shadow  on  the  happiness  of  Mar 
tha,  who  had  suddenly  found  opened  to 
her  a  new  life  and  dreams  she  had 
never  known.  At  first  she  had  felt  that 
she  could  not  go  with  her  lover  and 
leave  him  who  had  been  such  a  kind 
father,  but  Wilbur  persuaded  her  to 
consent  to  depart. 

On  the  morning  when  it  had  been 
finally  decided  they  were  to  go  Soltaire 
was  astir  early,  and  prepared  the  last 
meal  he  and  Martha  were  to  eat  to 
gether.  She  was  in  tears,  and  scarcely 


8o  Soltaire 

touched  the  food.  The  sight  of  her 
grief  made  more  impression  on  him  than 
all  that  had  been  said,  and  rising  abrupt 
ly  from  his  seat  he  crossed  to  her  side 
and  pressing-  her  head  to  his  bosom,  said  : 

"  Dry  those  tears,  my  daughter.  I  am 
going  with  you  to  this  new  home,  with 
the  understanding  that  I  shall  come 
back  another  summer." 

"You  shall,  dearest  of  fathers,  and  I 
will  come  with  you.  Now  I  am  truly 
happy." 

Wilbur  came  half  an  hour  later,  and 
he  was  pleased  to  find  that  Soltaire  had 
at  last  been  won  to  accompany  them. 
He  and  Martha  had  planned  to  reach 
the  nearest  settlement  on  horseback,  and 
he  had  taken  the  animals  to  the  valley 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  he 
had  been  obliged  to  leave  them.  Now 
he  was  troubled  because  he  had  not 
taken  another  horse,  but  Soltaire  as 
sured  him  that  he  should  not  have  ridden 
if  he  had  done  so. 


Broken  Ties  81 

Not  without  many  backward  glances 
did  the  three  start  on  their  long  journey, 
and  these  longing  looks  grew  more 
frequent  and  earnest  on  the  part  of  the 
anchorite  as  they  advanced,  Wilbur 
and  Martha  now  riding,  and  he  keeping 
beside  them  with  tireless  strides. 

Martha  noticed  this,  but  in  the  light 
ness  of  her  own  heart  she  did  not  realize 
the  battle  he  was  fighting  with  his 
stronger  self.  Finally  he  stopped,  say 
ing  simply : 

"  I  have  forgotten  to  take  my  pipe.  I 
think  I  will  go  back  for  it." 

"No  need  to  do  that,"  said  Wilbur. 
"  I  will  get  you  one  better  than  that." 

"  Not  better  for  me.  I  have  smoked 
it  these  many  years,  and  my  tobacco 
would  not  have  the  fragrance  with 
another.  You  need  not  wait  for  me." 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  shall,  father.  You 
will  be  back  in  a  couple  of  hours,  I 
think.  We  will  wait,  won't  we,  John?" 

Wilbur  understood  better  than  she  the 


82  Soltaire 

situation,  but  he  gladly  assented,  and  a 
moment  later  the  figure  of  the  old  man 
disappeared  in  the  distance.  Once  he 
glanced  back  over  his  shoulder  with 
a  look  which  Martha  remembered  the 
rest  of  her  life.  They  waited  for  him 
over  three  hours,  until  even  Martha  was 
forced  to  confess  that  he  was  not  coming. 

"  Perhaps  he  will  come  to  see  me  after 
I  have  been  away  awhile,"  she  said, 
hopefully,  and  Wilbur  was  fain  to  en 
courage  the  false  hope.  Soltaire  never 
came. 

The  following  summer  she  and  her 
husband  visited  the  Soltaryage,  but  the 
place  was  deserted,  though  it  showed 
that  it  had  been  inhabited  since  they  had 
left — apparently  into  the  middle  of  the 
winter.  Probably  Soltaire  had  perished 
during  one  of  his  trips  for  fuel  or  game  ; 
but  be  that  as  it  may,  one  of  them,  at 
least,  was  never  to  learn  his  fate. 


Once  he  glanced  back  over  his  shoulder  with  a  look  which 
Martha  remembered  the  rest  of  her  life. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SHELLING    PEAS. 

"The  witch  has  to  her  place  returned ; 
Our  witches  are  no  longer  old 
And  wrinkled  beldames,  Satan-sold, 
But  young  and  gay  and  laughing  creatures, 
With  the  heart's  sunshine  on  their  features." 

"Toss  your  head,  if  you  want  to, 
Sue  Blaisdell,  and  pretend  that  you 
think  my  conduct  is  terrible.  I  know 
you  are  just  dying  to  be  in  my  shoes. 
The  only  difference  between  us  is  that 
we  are  both  bound  to  catch  Arthur  Gar 
land,  but  you  won't  own  it  and  I  will." 

"  There  is  another  similarity,  Bess," 
spoke  up  a  third  of  the  party  of  light- 
hearted  girls  doing  miscellaneous  work 
at  one  of  the  big  summer  houses  of  Jack 
son.  A  merry  picture  they  presented, 
too,  in  their  light  frocks  and  blithesome 
manners.  Pretty  and  piquant,  every  one 


84  Soltaire 

of  them,  but  of  many  styles  of  maidenly 
coquettishness. 

"What's  that,  Mary  Grace?"  de 
manded  the  two  who  had  been  arguing 
all  the  morning  over  the  good  qualities 
of  a  certain  young  man  who  was  among 
the  tourists  stopping  at  this  famous  house. 

"Neither  of  you  will  catch  this  very 
desirable  match." 

"  As  soon  as  you,  with  your  winning 
smiles  and  foolish  tongue,  Mary  Grace. 
Oh,  but  didn't  you  look  and  act  foolish 
when  you  were  smirking  over  that  young 
fop  from — " 

"  Hold  right  on  there,  Bess  Leighton. 
We  are  not  discussing  Tom  Freeland  at 
all.  That  was  merely  a  passing  fancy, 
and  it  served  to  enliven  the  time.  Com 
ing  back  to  this  young  millionaire,  good 
looking,  with  the  air  of  a  knight  of  old 
and  the  culture  of  a  modern  scholar,  he 
is  enough  to  turn  the  heads  of  all  the 
girls,  I  will  allow.  I  am  free  to  confess 
that  I  am  in  the  race." 


Shelling  Peas  85 

"If  you  had  seen  what  I  saw  yester- 
terday,"  said  another,  who  had  thus 
far  remained  silent,  "  you  would  have 
thought  you  stood  a  poor  show.  Have 
any  of  you  seen  how  attentive  he  is  to 
that  Irene  Grover  from  Chicago?  They 
say  her  father  is  even  richer  than  the 
Garlands  of — " 

"  All  trumped  up.  I  have  it  from  one 
who  ought  to  know,  and  she  says  her 
father  is  on  the  verge  of  failure." 

"Talk  about  Arthur  Garland  being 
attentive  to  Irene  Grover.  It  is  she  who 
is  attentive  to  him.  Why,  she  won't  let 
him  get  out  of  her  sight,  and  I  overheard 
her  only  yesterday  morning  scolding  him 
about  the  way  he  helped  those  vulgar 
servants  shell  peas." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  "  asked  all  in  cho 
rus.  "  Servants ,  indeed  !  " 

"  Oh,  he  championed  our  cause  right 
nobly,  and  said  we  were  not  common 
servants.  Because  a  girl  is  ambitious 
enough  to  wish  to  pay  her  way  during 


86  Soltaire 

her  vacation  was  not  to  her  discredit. 
For  his  part  he  said  he  had  a  better 
opinion  of  them  for  such  a  laudable 
purpose." 

"  Hear  that,  girls,"  cried  the  irrepres 
sible  Mary  Grace.  "There  is  a  cham 
pion  equal  to  the  noble  heroes  you  read 
of  in  chivalrous  stories.  For  my  part,  I 
like  him  better  than  ever,  and  I  propose 
three  cheers  for  Arthur  Garland,  the 
young — " 

"  Do  hold  your  tongue,  Mary  Grace  ! 
What  if  he  should  hear?  Why  can't 
you  be  more  quiet  and  self-possessed 
like — like  Louise,  here.  You  never 
hear  any  such  wild  outbursts  from  her. 
She  hasn't  even  spoken  since  this  hulla 
baloo  has  begun,"  declared  Bess,  waving 
her  plump  white  hand  in  the  direction 
of  a  girl  seated  at  one  side  of  this  noisy, 
chatty  throng,  who  was  certainly  worthy 
of  more  than  a  passing  notice. 

Of  a  slender,  graceful  figure,  above 
the  medium  in  height,  without  looking 


Shelling  Peas  87 

over  tall  in  her  free,  easy  carriage, 
Louise  Freenoble  belonged  to  that  rare 
type  of  womanly  beauty  which  poets 
and  artists  delight  to  rave  over,  and  yet 
never  half  portray,  while  they  linger 
over  some  especial  feature  that  charms 
them.  The  blue  eyes,  mirroring  in 
their  liquid  depths  the  purity  of  the  soul 
within ;  the  waving,  silken  hair,  of  a 
gold  and  bronze  deepening  into  brown  ; 
a  mouth  firm,  yet  displaying  a  pair  of 
red  lips  showing  a  trace  of  tenderness, 
and  between  them  a  gleam  of  pearly 
teeth,  all  these  were  possessed  by  Lou 
ise,  with  a  clear,  soft-tinted  skin.  She 
had,  too,  a  retiring  nature,  which  never 
seemed  ruffled  at  the  petty  vexations  that 
so  often  troubled  her  companions.  This 
was  her  third  summer  at  this  house,  and 
it  is  needless  to  say  that  she  won  the 
friendship  of  those  who  had  been  fortu 
nate  to  make  her  acquaintance. 

"Compare  me  to   Louise — the  idea! 
I  could  no  more  be  quiet  like  her  than 


88  Soltaire 

Wildcat  river  can  stop  its  headlong 
course.  I  should  n't  want  to,  if  I  could. 
Then,  too,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  she 
has  a  lover  at  home.  Who  knows?  She 
has  been  here  three  seasons,  and  who  of 
us  are  wise  enough  to  tell  whence  she 
comes  or  whither  she  goes,  with  her  well- 
filled  purse,  at  the  end  of  the  season?" 

"All  but  the  well-filled  purse.  But 
your  mountain  torrents  that  you  boast  so 
much  of  are  shallow,  and  the  poet  tells 
us  that  still  waters  run  deep." 

"We  don't  happen  to  be  living  in  a 
poetical  age,  Miss  Maude,  and  I  am 
glad  of  it.  This  is  an  electrical  age, 
and  I  am  glad  I  have  got  a  little  of  the 
divine  spark  about  me.  If  I  do  create  a 
little  friction  I  like  to  see  the  sparks  fly." 

"  Oh,  well,  a  thunder-storm  is  pleasant 
to  contemplate  at  a  distance,  but  when 
it  comes  too  near,  then  beware.  But 
returning  to  this  mountain  hero  and  our 
quiet  Evangeline,  I  noticed  yesterday 
that  if  she  did  say  less  than  the  rest  of 


Shelling  Peas  89 

us,  she  got  more  peas  shelled  than  any 
of  us." 

"  That  does  n't  signify.  For  my  part 
I  would  not  have  it  thought  that  I  sought 
merely  for  such  honors.  I  got  twice  the 
attention  from  him  that  she  did." 

"That  may  be,  but  he  was  shelling 
her  peas,  not  yours.  Now — " 

"  Hush,  girls,"  broke  in  Louise,  now 
speaking  for  the  first  time,  "  here  comes 
Mr.  Garland,  and  we  ought  to  have  had 
those  peas  shelled  before  this." 

"  'Speak  of  angels,  and  you  hear  the 
flutter  of  their  wings,'  "  exclaimed  Bess. 
"  Let 's  hie  to  the  porch  and  put  on  our 
most  becoming  manner.  We  must  not 
let  him  know  that  he  is  our  conquering 
hero." 

"Away  with  such  nonsense.  Man 
likes  to  be  flattered  just  as  well  as  we  of 
the  gentler,  sex.  Scat  to  your  corners 
like  a  litter  of  frightened  kittens.  I  am 
going  to  meet  the  '  conquering  hero.'" 

While   the    others    hastened   to   their 


90  Soltaire 

task  of  the  morning,  too  long  neglected 
through  this  gossip,  the  reckless  Mary 
ran  to  greet  the  new-comer  who  had  pro 
voked  the  discussion  of  the  girls.  He 
was  good  looking,  well  dressed,  and 
above  all  with  the  air  and  culture  of  a 
gentleman.  He  smiled,  as  the  impetuous 
Mary  Grace  approached,  crying  out : 

**  I  have  a  conundrum  for  you,  Mr. 
Garland,  and  it  is  original  with  me."' 

**No  more  original  than  yourself,  Miss 
Grace.  Please  state  your  conundrum, 
though  I  must  confess  that  I  am  a  poor 
guesser  at  such  catch-games." 

**  I  know  you  can't  guess  this.  Why 
are  the  peas  we  have  got  here  to  shell 
like  the  seven  falls  on  Wildcat  river 
yonder?  Now  put  on  your  thinking 
cap,  sirrah,  and  give  me  an  answer  if  it 
be  ever  so  foolish." 

"  Reallv,  I  do  not  know,  Miss  Grace, 
unless — let  me  see — ahem,  unless  it  is 
because  there  are  generally  seven  peas 
in  a  pod,  and — " 


Shelling1  Peas  91 

"Just  like  a  man  !"  broke  in  the  dis 
appointed  maid,  showing  slight  vexation, 
"you  have  given  the  most  bungling 
answer  you  could  have  imagined.  Noth 
ing  spoils  a  good  conundrum  so  much  as 
to  have — " 

"It  unraveled  by  the  poor  victim," 
said  Garland,  with  a  smile.  "  Now  that 
you  have  been  answered  I  have  a  favor 
to  ask." 

"Granted,  before  it  is  named,"  she 
hastened  to  say,  nodding  gaily  toward 
her  companions,  who  were  listening  to 
this  lively  conversation  with  an  interest 
which  kept  them  from  their  task. 

"Just  like  you,  but  I  am  afraid  your 
generosity  will  get  you  into  trouble.  I 
merely  wanted  the  privilege  of  changing 
your  name  to  what  seemed  to  me — " 

He  stopped  suddenly  here  in  the  midst 
of  his  speech,  his  countenance  looking 
very  red,  while  he  appeared  confused 
and  alarmed  at  what  he  had  said,  and 
she,  with  mock  gravity,  declared : 


92  Soltaire 

"Really,  Mr.  Garland,  you  do  me  a 
great  honor,  and  though  this  is  so  sudden 
and  public  I — I  have  no  objection." 

By  this  time  the  whole  party  was  con 
vulsed  with  laughter,  the  young  man 
getting  redder  and  redder  in  the  face, 
while  the  coquettish  girl  actually,  for 
once,  lost  her  complacency  and  looked 
off  toward  the  mountains  encircling  this 
romantic  retreat  in  the  heart  of  the  White 
Hills. 

"  Really,  Miss  Grace,"  stammered 
Garland,  as  soon  as  he  could  recover 
enough  to  speak,  "what  I  meant  was 
that  I  would  like  to  change  the  spelling 
of  your  plain  but  pretty  given  name, 
Mary,  so  it  should  be  M-e-r-r-y — Merry 
Grace.  That  would  be  so  appropriate. 
I  will  leave  it  to  the  crowd  if  I  am  not 
right." 

"  Oh,  you  horrid  man,  I  will  never — 
never  speak  to  you  again.  Here  comes 
Mr.  Sumner,  and  I  am  so  glad  there  is 
a  gentleman  with  us." 


Shelling  Peas  93 

It  was  perhaps  fortunate  that  a  new 
comer  appeared  on  the  scene  to  change 
the  somewhat  awkward  turn  affairs  had 
taken.  Sumner  was  a  voluble  young 
man,  with  an  immaculate  shirt-front,  a 
beaming  countenance,  and  flighty  ideas, 
who  never  seemed  to  lack  something  to 
say  even  if  his  talk  contained  but  little 
wisdom. 

"  Say,"  he  cried,  before  he  had  got 
near  enough  to  be  heard  in  an  ordinary 
tone  of  voice,  "  have  you  heard  the  latest 
news?'' 

"News!  no,  what  is  it?  Is  it  some 
new  arrival?" 

"  I  do  n't  know  how  new  an  arrival 
she  is,  but  a  strange  woman  has  been 
seen  in  the  vicinity  of  Black  Mountain." 

"A  strange  woman  on  Black  Moun 
tain  !  What  is  she  like?  Is  she  old  or 
young?  Does  she  live  there  alone?" 

"  Have  mercy  on  a  fellow,  I  pray. 
Now  really,  ladies,  I  cannot  begin  to 
answer  the  questions  already  thrown  at 


94  Soltaire 

me  so  wildly.  But  I  will  say  that  she  is 
said  to  be  old — very  old — that  she  resem 
bles  the  description  we  have  been  given 
of  the  witch  of  Endor,  and  that  appar 
ently  she  lives  alone  in  some  of  the  caves 
or  recesses  of  the  mountain.  This  is  the 
more  evident  because  she  will  not  let  any 
one  get  near  enough  to  speak  to  her.  It 
is  claimed  by  those  who  have  seen  her 
that  it  is  remarkable,  considering  her 
age,  how  rapidly  she  will  disappear 
among  the  rocks  and  under-growth." 

"  Who  can  she  be?  Surely  some  one 
must  know  who  she  is.  Of  course  she  is 
crazy." 

"  I  can't  say  about  that.  Perhaps  she 
is  an  old  settler  here  in  the  mountains. 
I  have  heard  of  such  things.  I  had  an 
uncle  who  said  that  he  knew  a  man  who 
had  seen  an  old  hag  riding  off  on  one  of 
the  mountain  crags,  and  as  she  did  so  a 
great  halo  encircled  her  head  until  she 
disappeared  in  the  distance  ;  but  of  course 
that  was  a  good  while  ago." 


Shelling  Peas  95 

"I  should  correct  you  by  saying  a  bad 
while  ago,  Mr.  Sumner.  But  the  trouble 
with  you  is  that  you  have  been  reading 
late  at  night  the  gruesome  Hawthorne's 
story  of  the  '  great  carbuncle.'  I  should 
advise  you  to  take  a  short  vacation  from 
such  literature,  and  read  in  the  meantime 
Starr  King,"  said  the  irrepressible  Mary 
Grace,  who  had  quite  done  pouting. 

"Wouldn't  it  be  nice  if  some  of  us 
could  find  one  of  those  wonderful  gems 
the  old  writers  so  delighted  to  describe," 
exclaimed  Bess. 

"  Perfectly  delightful  if  that  some  one 
should  happen  to  be  me  !"  declared  Sue. 
"  You  wouldn't  catch  me  shelling  these 
horrid  old  peas  another  minute." 

"Judging  by  what  you  have  done  it 
would  n't  be  any  great  loss  to  the  rest," 
said  Maiy,  adding  in  a  lower  tone  :  "I 
should  rather  find  a  rich  husband  than 
all  the  carbuncles  the  old  fortune-mad 
hunters  never  found." 

Talking  and   laughing   alternately  of 


96  Soltaire 

the  strange  woman  claimed  to  have  been 
seen  in  the  region  of  Black  Mountain, 
and  of  the  wonder-tales  of  supposed  gems 
of  marvelous  value  hidden  somewhere  in 
the  crystal  hills,  the  light-hearted  group 
had  quite  forgotten  two  of  their  number, 
Louise  and  Garland,  who  were  industri 
ously  working  and  conversing  in  a  low 
tone  at  the  same  time. 

"There  is  to  be  a  pleasure  party  to 
morrow  that  will  go  up  to  the  Black 
Mountains,"  he  was  saying.  "  I  under 
stand  it  has  been  planned  by  our  gener 
ous  landlord  for  the  benefit  of  his  help  as 
wrell  as  his  guests.  You  will  go?" 

"I  am  afraid  not,  I  thank  you." 

' '  I  am  very  sorry,  for  I  had  hoped  you 
would  find  it  convenient  to  do  so."  Then 
seeing  her  look  of  surprise,  he  added : 
"  You  are  so  different  from  the  rest." 

She  felt  that  she  was  on  dangerous 
ground,  and  to  shift  the  theme  of  conver 
sation  she  inquired  : 

"What   have   you   heard    about    this 


Shelling  Peas  97 

strange  woman  on  Black  Mountain,  Mr. 
Garland?" 

"Very  little.  She  is  some  poor,  delud 
ed  being  who  has  evidently  strayed  away 
from  home  and  relatives.  But  I  have 
been  told  that  many  hermits  and  peculiar 
people  still  live  in  the  mountains,  avoid 
ing  society.  It  is  with  the  hope  that  we 
shall  see  this  strange  woman  that  this 
trip  to  Black  Mountain  is  planned." 

"  Hear  that,  girls?  "  asked  Mary,  who 
had  caught  the  last  sentence.  "There's 
going  to  be  a  trip  to  Black  Mountain  to 
find  the  old  witch,  and  our  boss  says  we 
can  go,  and  I  am  going." 

"Isn't  it  on  Black  Mountain  that  it 
is  told  a  singular  hermit  called  Soltaire 
used  to  live?"  asked  Sue. 

"The  wild  man  who  kept  that  poor 
girl  there  a  prisoner  so  many  years? 
Perhaps  this  wild  woman  is  that  girl 
grown  into  an  old  woman !  Oh,  you 
need  n't  laugh,  there  has  been  plenty  of 
time." 


98  Soltaire 

"Peas  to  shell!"  cried  one  of  the 
merry  throng,  springing  to  her  feet. 
"Come,  where  are  the  rest  of  you? 
Louise  has  had  hers  shelled  these  ten 
minutes." 

"Well  she  might!"  exclaimed  Sue 
under  her  breath,  but  wisely  held  her 
tongue  while  the  party  dispersed  to  their 
several  tasks  and  to  prepare  for  the 
afternoon's  outing,  which  was  to  end  in 
a  most  surprising  manner. 


.£ 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ROMANCE    AND    REALITY. 

"  By  maple  orchards,  belts  of  pine 

And  larches  climbing  darkly 
The  mountain  slopes,  and,  over  all, 
The  great  peaks  rising  starkly. 

Rivers  of  gold-mist  flowing  down 
From  far  celestial  fountains, — 

The  great  sun  flaming  through  the  rifts 
Beyond  the  wall  of  mountains." 

Immediately  upon  hearing  the  stories, 
soon  highly  exaggerated,  of  the  strange 
female  hermit  claimed  to  have  been  seen 
in  the  vicinity  of  Black  Mountain,  a  dozen 
persons  were  eager  to  pay  a  visit  to  that 
region  in  the  hope  of  encountering  the 
unknown  woman.  So  promptly  at  three 
o'clock  one  of  the  big  coaches  was  made 
ready  for  the  trip,  the  horses  were  har 
nessed,  and  the  vehicle  was  driven  up  in 
front  of  the  hotel. 


ioo  Soltaire 

Of  course  Arthur  Garland  was  among 
the  foremost,  while  the  gossipers  had 
plenty  to  occupy  their  time  for  the  bal 
ance  of  the  day  when  they  saw  him  help 
Louise  into  the  carriage  and  take  a  seat 
beside  her.  Mr.  Sumner  was  with  the 
party,  as  ready  as  ever  to  do  all  the  talk 
ing,  but  finding  more  than  his  match 
in  the  saucy,  sarcastic,  humorous  Mary 
Grace,  who  could  quickly  silence  him 
whenever  she  chose  to  exercise  the  pre 
rogative  of  a  woman — the  free  use  of  her 
tongue.  Bess  and  Sue  were  both  pres 
ent,  with  others  whose  names  need  not 
be  presented. 

At  one  of  the  second  story  windows 
might  have  been  seen  a  fair  face  dark 
ened  with  a  storm  of  rage,  and  as  they 
rode  away  a  white  fist  was  shaken  after 
them,  expressive  of  the  war  in  the  heart 
of  Irene  Grover. 

"The  fools!"  exclaimed  the  disap 
pointed  heiress,  while  she  watched  the 
party  ride  away  ;  "  his  father  shall  know 


Romance  and  Reality         101 

of  this,  and  I  will  see  that  she  is  disgraced 
in  the  eyes  of  all.  I  '11  find  the  means  to 
do  this  before  they  return." 

Unconscious,  in  a  great  measure,  of 
the  anger  he  had  called  upon  his  head 
through  having  taken  Louise  upon  this 
trip, Garland  was  extremely  light-hearted, 
and  his  cheerful  spirit  imbued  the  entire 
party,  which  chatted  in  a  manner  that 
showed  the  most  of  its  members  to  be  lost 
to  their  wild  surroundings. 

The  road  followed  the  valley  of  Wild 
cat  river  until  reaching  the  junction  of  a 
tributary  known  as  Great  brook,  when 
the  way  wound  along  the  bank  of  this 
noisy  rivulet,  each  moment  taking  them 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  heart  of  that 
mountainous  region.  Soon  old  Double 
Head  frowned  down  upon  them  on  their 
right  hand,  while  on  the  other  the  Black 
Mountain  range  hemmed  them  in. 

"  The  old  woman  has  been  seen  at  an 
old  sugar  camp  near  the  big  double  ma 
ple,  hasn't  she?  "asked  one  of  the  party. 
1 


IO2  Soltaire 

"  How  is  that,  Garland?" 

"It  will  do  no  harm  for  us  to  stop 
there,  though  I  think  we  shall  find  her 
farther  back  in  the  mountains." 

"If  we  find  her  at  all." 

"Well,  we  are  at  the  last  occupied 
house,"  said  the  driver.  "I  know  the 
people  intimately  here,  and  it  will  be  a 
good  place  to  leave  the  horses.  Though 
this  is  the  end  of  the  road,  I  can  take 
you  all  up  to  the  sugar  camp,  and  while 
you  are  looking  around  a  bit  will  come 
back  with  the  horses." 

This  meeting  with  unanimous  approval, 
Harry  Russell  gave  his  whole  attention 
to  guiding  the  horses  along  the  now 
broken  way,  until  at  last  he  announced 
the  sugar  camp,  and  the  "  old  sweet 
maple  a  bit  away  from  it." 

In  a  moment  the  passengers  made  a 
rush  to  leave  the  coach,  a  portion  of  them 
scampering  off  into  the  woods  helter- 
skelter,  while  others  hastened  to  the  sugar 
camp  in  plain  sight,  laughing  and  shout- 


The  couple  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  peculiar  maple. 


Romance  and  Reality         103 

ing  in  a  manner  which  would  have  given 
any  person  ample  warning  to  seek  the 
concealment  of  the  forest  if  he  did  not 
care  to  be  discovered. 

"  Much  they'll  find  of  the  old  woman 
in  that  headlong  rush,"  muttered  the 
driver,  as  he  turned  the  horses  about  to 
drive  back  to  the  farmhouse;  "but  it's 
none  of  my  porridge." 

Garland  now  seemed  to  have  lost  in 
terest  in  the  search,  or  else  he  had,  as  he 
had  said,  little  faith  in  it,  and  he  escort 
ed  Louise  in  a  direction  away  from  the 
crowd.  Thus  the  couple  soon  came  in 
sight  of  the  peculiar  maple,  where  it  will 
be  remembered  Martha  Soltaire  had  had 
her  adventure  with  the  bear  and  been 
saved  by  John  Wilbur.  The  tree  had 
changed  little  since  that  day  long  since 
past. 

"  An  old  settler,"  declared  he,  assist 
ing  her  to  a  seat  between  the  two  trunks, 
"  and  it  seems  especially  designed  as  a 
lovers'  trysting  place,"  taking  a  seat 


IO4  Soltaire 

beside  her.  "  I  wonder  if  this  is  why  it 
is  known  as  the  '  sweet  maple.'  The 
driver  says  it  is  known  by  that  name," 
added  Garland. 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  find  the  un 
known  woman?"  asked  Louise,  as  if  to 
change  the  topic  of  conversation. 

"Not  in  the  way  they  have  begun. 
But  let  them  riot  through  the  woods 
like  so  many  wild  creatures.  I  prefer  a 
moment's  quiet  and  your  company.  The 
strange  woman  has  her  haunts  farther 
up  in  the  mountains  beyond  these.  But 
let  us  forget  her  for  a  brief  while.  The 
crowd  has  kindly  allowed  me  a  privilege 
I  cannot  fail  to  improve." 

Perhaps  she  had  a  vague  realization  of 
his  meaning,  but  she  made  no  reply,  her 
gaze  wandering  toward  the  mountains 
trending  northward. 

"Miss  Freenoble  —  Louise  —  I  know 
that  our  acquaintance  has  not  been  ex 
tended,  but  in  the  time  that  I  have  known 
you  I  have  discovered  in  you  traits  of 


Romance  and  Reality         105 

character  others  do  not  possess.  Pardon 
me  for  speaking  in  this  abrupt  manner 
at  this  time,  but  it  seemed  to  me  the  most 
fitting  as  it  is  the  first  opportunity." 

"  I  am  surprised,  Mr.  Garland,  at  what 
you  have  said,  and  I  wish  you  would  ac 
company  me  back  to  the  coach  at  once." 

"Nay,  Miss  Freenoble,  do  not  be 
offended  at  what  I  was  to  say.  I  am  an 
honorable  man  and  I  have  only  the  best 
of  motives  in  what  I  was  about  to  say." 

"  Why  say  that  which  can  only  cause 
both  of  us  pain,  Mr.  Garland?  I  believe 
you  are  an  honest  man,  which  thought 
is  worth  a  great  deal  to  me,  who  am  so 
far  below  you  in — " 

4 '  Forgive  me  if  I  interrupt  that  thought. 
It  is  unworthy  of  us  both.  You  are  not 
below  me  in  any  respect,  but  my  equal 
if  not  superior  in  intellectual  gifts." 

"  No — no  !  you  do  not  understand  me. 
You  are  rich  and  move  in  a  circle  far 
above  me,  a  poor,  unknown  girl,  glad  of 
an  opportunity  to  earn  an  honest  living." 


io6  Soltaire 

"  For  which  I  admire  you  the  more.  It 
is  not  to  my  especial  credit  that  my  family 
is  what  is  called  rich.  True  riches  are 
not  to  be  estimated  according  to  the  size 
of  a  bank  account  is  my  belief.  I  am 
glad  to  offer  you,  the  one  woman  I  love, 
a  pleasant  home,  but  such  fortune  as  I 
may  possess  does  not  in  any  manner 
measure  the  depth  of  my  love.  Do  you 
doubt  my  sincerity,  Miss  Freenoble?" 

"No,  Mr.  Garland,  but  I  am  sorry 
you  have  said  this." 

She  had  left  his  side  and  now  stood 
trembling  and  confused  before  him. 

"  Why  sorry,  Louise?  I  mean  it.  You 
do  not  dislike  me?" 

* '  No — no  !  But  you  know  so  little  of 
me.  Before  another  hour  you  may  learn 
that  which  will  cause  you  to  despise  me." 

"  Never,  Louise  !  You  cannot  believe 
in  my  sincerity,  or  you  would  not  say 
that.  You  will  answer  my  question — do 
you  love  me?" 

She  started,  as  if  frightened   by   the 


Romance  and  Reality         107 

words,  and  turned  away  in  confusion, 
while  a  telltale  crimson  came  into  her 
cheeks. 

"  Wait,  please, "she  said.  "  Something 
tells  me  you  will  not  wish  to  repeat — 
Hark!  Mr.  Russell  has  returned,  and 
he  is  calling  for  us  to  start  ahead.  The 
rest  will  talk  if  we  linger  here." 

The  others  were  already  gathering 
about  the  impatient  driver,  who  realized 
better  than  the  excited  tourists  the  need 
of  improving  every  moment  of  time  if 
they  wished  to  get  back  before  night. 

"This  will  be  the  jolliest  part  of  our 
journey,"  cried  Sumner.  "How  many 
of  you  dare  to  follow  me  ?" 

"To  decline  such  an  invitation,"  said 
Mary  Grace,  a  bit  sarcastically,  "  would 
not  be  so  much  a  display  of  cowardice 
as  of  good  judgment.  '  Madmen  rush 
in  where  angels  dare  not  tread.' ' 

"And  you  would  be  enough  to  drive 
any  fellow  mad,  if  his  head  were  not 
well  balanced,"  he  replied. 


io8  Soltaire 

Several  of  the  young  men,  among  them 
Garland,  had  brought  their  firearms  with 
them  in  the  hope  they  might  see  some 
thing  worth  a  shot,  and  taking  these  they 
prepared  for  the  advance  into  the  moun 
tainous  region.  The  most  venturesome 
of  the  girls  resolved  to  accompany  them 
as  far  as  possible. 

Harry  Russell,  the  driver,  willingly 
consented  to  act  as  guide,  and  under  his 
lead  the  party  plunged  into  the  depths 
of  the  forest,  the  merry  shouts  and  laugh 
ter  of  the  more  careless  and  boisterous 
ringing  out  far  and  wide  on  the  still  air. 

"  You  would  frighten  all  of  the  Salem 
witches  out  of  the  mountains  if  they  had 
taken  refuge  here, "muttered  Harry  Rus 
sell,  who  was  not  well  pleased  with  such 
noisy  demonstrations. 

Gradually  these  outbursts  grew  less 
frequent,  as  the  party  progressed,  until 
only  an  occasional  word  was  spoken. 
The  way  had  now  become  a  mere  foot 
path.  Thus  the  surprise  of  the  tourists 


Romance  and  Reality         109 

was  the  greater  for  discovering  in  this 
isolated  place  the  crumbling  walls  of  an 
old  hut. 

"  I  can  remember  since  this  old  house 
was  occupied,"  declared  the  guide. 
"This  path  was  then  a  roadway,  so  that 
teams  could  be  driven  clear  up  here. 
Hello  !  if  the  old  house  is  n't  occupied 
now,  may  I  be  roasted  for — " 

"This  may  be  the  stopping  place  of 
the  old  witch,"  broke  in  Sumner.  "  As 
I  live,  here  is  a  woman's  shoe,"  picking 
up  as  he  spoke  the  object,  which  was 
worn  out  beyond  any  hope  of  repair. 

This  find  was  enough  to  create  great 
interest  in  the  place,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  entire  party  was  satisfied  that 
the  ruined  hut  had  been  very  recently 
occupied,  no  doubt  by  the  strange 
woman  they  had  hoped  to  find. 

This  fact,  as  well  perhaps  as  a  desire 
to  escape  the  fatigue  of  further  travel 
through  the  wilderness,  caused  the 
majority  of  the  party  to  decide  to  remain 


no  Soltaire 

at  the  place,  while  the  rest  penetrated 
still  farther  into  the  broken  regions  be 
yond  them. 

Knowing  that  they  might  wait  there 
for  days  without  seeing  the  unknown 
woman,  Garland  was  as  anxious  as  ever 
to  press  on,  while  Louise  and  Mary, 
with  two  other  girls,  concluded  to  keep 
with  the  explorers  a  while  longer.  Sum- 
ner  was  also  with  them. 

The  valley  continued  to  contract  until 
it  was  little  more  than  a  rocky  gorge, 
with  granite  walls  hundreds  of  feet  in 
height  on  either  side,  and  continually 
growing  higher. 

"By  climbing  the  spur  of  the  moun 
tain  on  our  left,"  said  the  guide,  "  we 
can  get  a  wide  view  of  the  region  be 
yond  us,  where  a  hermit  would  be  most 
likely  to  take  up  his  abode." 

It  being  deemed  best  for  the  ladies 
to  remain  in  the  valley,  Sumner  volun 
teered  to  stay  with  them,  while  the  others 
ascended  the  peak  pointed  out  by  the 
guide. 


Romance  and  Reality         1 1 1 

Garland  was  among  the  foremost  of 
this  little  party  to  reach  the  lookout,  and 
as  he  and  Russell  stood  there,  side  by 
side,  he  found  that  the  view  fully  repaid 
him  for  all  his  trouble  in  gaining  such  a 
vantage  ground. 

"  This  is  truly  the  throne  of  the  moun 
tain  king,"  he  said.  "  I  can  see  nothing 
but  mountains  after  mountains." 

"  More  than  have  been  named,"  de 
clared  the  guide.  "  But  you  have  on  our 
left  a  farther  look  into  the  Black  Moun 
tain  gorge  than  was  possible  from  the  foot 
where  we  left  the  others." 

"What  a  lonely  existence  it  must  be 
for  any  one  to  live  here,"  affirmed  anoth 
er  of  the  party. 

"True,  and  yet  a  strange  man  known 
as  Soltaire,  it  is  claimed,  lived  in  the 
heart  of  the  mountains  beyond  where  we 
can  see,  for  nearly  twenty  years.  The 
strangest  part  of  the  story  is  that  for 
several  years  he  had  living  with  him  a 
beautiful  girl.  Who  she  was  has  never 


1 1 2  Soltaire 

been  satisfactorily  told,  but  she  finally 
went  away  and  was  married  to  a  man 
who  rescued  her  from  her  lonely  life." 

"  What  became  of  the  old  man?" 

"  Nobody  ever  knew.  The  girl  came 
back  to  try  and  persuade  him  to  go  and 
live  with  her,  but  she  could  not  find 
him." 

"  Say,  Garland  !  "  exclaimed  a  fourth 
speaker,  who  had  been  closely  survey 
ing  the  distant  scene  through  a  glass, 
"  yonder  on  that  dead  tree  is  a  fine  shot 
for  you.  It  is  an  eagle  of  great  size. 
Do  you  think  you  could  bring  down  the 
bird  at  that  distance  ?  " 

"  Watch  me  and  see,"  replied  Gar 
land,  who  was  a  crack  shot,  and  taking 
rapid  aim  at  the  eagle  he  fired.  No 
sooner  had  the  report  of  his  rifle  died 
away  before  the  other  exclaimed  : 

"You  have  hit  it — ha!  what  is  that? 
Merciful  heaven,  Garland,  you  have  shot 
a  woman  !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    UNEXPECTED    HAPPENS. 

'  'T  is  I  that  mingle  in  one  sweet  measure, 
The  past,  the  present,  the  future  of  pleasure  ; 
When  Memory  links  the  tone  that  is  gone 
With  the  blissful  tone  that's  in  the  ear, 
And  Hope  from  a  heavenly  note  flies  on 
To  a  note  more  heavenly  still  that  is  near." 

Others  beside  the  speaker  had  seen  the 
figure  of  a  woman  suddenly  come  into 
sight  at  the  foot  of  the  blasted  tree  and 
fall  upon  the  rocks,  where  she  remained 
motionless.  In  a  moment  the  handful  of 
spectators  were  in  a  fever  of  excitement. 

"At  any  rate  you  cannot  be  blamed, 
Garland,  and  we  will  stand  by  you  what 
ever  follows,"  declared  Harry  Russell. 

"  Let  us  go  there  as  quickly  as  we  can. 
She  may  not  be  dead." 

"It  will  be  a  smart  step  to  the  place. 
Fix  the  location  well  in  your  mind,  boys." 


1 1 4  Soltaire 

Garland  was  already  descending  the 
cliff  with  rapid  strides,  regardless  of  the 
danger  he  was  constantly  incurring  by 
his  headlong  steps,  while  he  was  think 
ing  only  of  the  most  unexpected  result 
of  his  long  shot. 

As  it  was  not  necessary  for  the  party 
to  return  to  the  old  cabin  where  they 
had  left  their  friends,  they  headed  di 
rectly  toward  the  base  of  the  mountain 
on  the  side  of  which  they  had  seen  the 
form  of  a  woman  fall  as  if  killed,  the 
little  group  they  had  left  in  the  valley 
joining  them.  Swiftly  they  tore  through 
the  underbrush  regardless  of  the  result 
to  clothes  or  person,  Garland  keeping  in 
the  lead,  with  Harry  Russell  close  be 
hind  him. 

So  well  did  the  alarmed  men  follow  the 
proper  course  that  it  was  less  than  fifteen 
minutes  when  the  foremost  pair  reached 
the  spot. 

"  There  she  lies  ! "  exclaimed  Garland, 
"  where  she  fell  on  the  rocks.  She  does 


The  Unexpected  Happens     115 

not  seem  to  be  alive,  but  let  us  hope  she 
is  not  dead." 

Both  saw  at  a  glance  that  she  was  an 
aged  woman,  with  dress  sadly  torn  and 
her  long  hair  disheveled,  as  it  fell  in 
snow-white  masses  about  her  shoulders. 
But  they  thought  more  of  her  physical 
condition  than  of  anything  else,  and  to 
gether  they  sought  to  learn  if  she  was 
yet  living.  A  wide  gash  in  her  head 
showed  where  she  had  struck  the  rock, 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  a  bullet  wound. 

"I  do  not  think  your  shot  hit  her  at 
all,"  said  Russell.  "  Neither  is  she  dead." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  all  that,"  declared 
Garland.  "Perhaps  if  we  can  get  her 
to  the  farmhouse  below  here  she  will  re 
vive.  Here  are  the  others  ;  with  them 
we  must  bear  her  to  a  more  comfortable 
place  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  others  willingly  agreed  to  lend 
such  assistance  as  they  could,  and  hastily 
arranging  a  rude  litter  of  broken  bran 
ches  from  the  forest  they  placed  the  un- 


1 1 6  Soltaire 

conscious  form  upon  it,  to  begin  their 
tedious  descent  to  the  deserted  cabin. 

While  others  were  preparing  the  litter, 
Sumner  and  one  other  made  an  examin 
ation  of  the  place  where  the  strange  wo 
man  had  been  found,  in  the  hope  of  find 
ing  some  explanation  of  the  cause  of  her 
mishap.  The  eagle  that  Garland  had  shot 
was  found  in  the  thicket  just  above  the 
spot  where  she  had  fallen.  Though  the 
bird  was  lifeless  now,  there  was  evidence 
of  its  having  made  a  desperate  struggle 
before  it  had  died. 

'•Ah,  look  here  !"  exclaimed  Sumner  ; 
"here  are  the  tracks  where  she  wras 
standing  before  she  took  that  tumble. 
1 11  venture  the  eagle  had  something  to 
do  with  it." 

"  So  will  I,"  responded  his  friend. 
''  No  doubt  the  bird,  the  moment  it  was 
hit,  made  a  dive  in  this  direction,  strik 
ing  the  woman  in  its  blind  agony. 
This  toppled  her  over,  while  the  creature 
continued  its  struggles.  Probably  the 


The  Unexpected  Happens     117 

woman  had  not  seen  it  in  time  to  get  out 
of  the  way." 

This  plausible  theory  was  accepted  by 
the  others  as  the  most  probable  explana 
tion  of  the  affair. 

The  journey  to  the  old  house,  if  a 
slow  and  laborious  trip,  was  performed 
in  safety.  Those  who  wrere  awaiting 
their  coming  were  looking  anxiously  for 
their  arrival.  Having  heard  the  gun 
shot,  they  were  prepared  to  expect  that 
some  exciting  incident  had  occurred, 
and  at  sight  of  the  lifeless  figure  borne 
in  their  midst  this  alarm  increased  to  an 
exciting  pitch. 

"  Somebody  has  been  killed!"  ex 
claimed  one  of  the  most  nervous. 

**  Was  it  an  accident  or  done  on  pur 
pose  ?  "  asked  another. 

•  •  It  will  go  hard  with  the  murderer," 
declared  a  third. 

"  Has  murder  been  done?  Oh,  dear ! 
this  is  horrible  !"' 

But  the  voluble  Sumner  was  able  to 
; 


1 1 8  Soltaire 

change  the  drift  of  these  exclamations  at 
once,  though  he  was  not  likely  to  silence 
the  demonstrations  of  wonder. 

"  We  have  found  that  strange  woman, 
the  witch  of  Black  Mountain  !  It  is  the 
funniest  thing  that  ever  happened." 

While  Sumner  was  describing  to  his 
friends  the  scene  on  the  mountains  the 
others  bore  the  form  of  the  aged  woman 
into  the  house,  where  she  was  tenderly 
placed  upon  a  couch.  About  this  time 
she  began  to  move  and  to  show  signs  of 
returning  consciousness.  Her  lips,moved, 
but  the  expressions  that  she  uttered  were 
incoherent  and  wandering,  showing  that 
she  was  delirious. 

Among  those  who  came  forward  to 
lend  such  assistance  as  they  could  was 
Louise  Freenoble,  who  at  sight  of  the 
pallid,  haggard  features,  stopped  in  her 
course.  Then,  bending  a  searching  look 
upon  the  sufferer,  she  murmured : 

"Am  I  dreaming?  This  is  my  grand 
mother,  who  disappeared  so  mysterious- 


The  Unexpected  Happens     119 

ly  early  in  the  summer.  Grandmother, 
speak  and  say  that  you  recognize  me — 
Louise." 

The  spectators  showed  their  surprise, 
and  more  than  one  shook  his  head,  with 
a  look  that  seemed  to  say : 

"  So  the  proud  Louise  is  a  relative  of 
this  strange  vagabond  !  I  always  knew 
you  might  expect  something  of  this  kind 
of  her." 

Garland,  with  a  finer  appreciation  of 
the  situation,  immediately  felt  the  injus 
tice  of  these  frowns  and  ill-concealed 
looks  of  displeasure. 

"It  is  necessary  that  the  sick  woman 
should  be  given  entire  quiet,  and  the  rest 
of  us  would  better  retire  at  once,  save 
Miss  Freenoble." 

But  curiosity  proved  stronger  than 
human  sympathy  for  one  in  distress,  and 
only  a  few  withdrew  ;  and  even  these 
looked  back  with  evident  dislike  at  being 
deprived  of  witnessing  what  might  fol 
low. 


1 20  Soltaire 

"Speak,  grandmother!"  implored 
Louise,  regardless  of  those  around  her. 
"  How  came  you  here?  You  must  live  !" 

As  if  the  tragic  words  had  the  power 
to  restore  her  to  the  life  that  had  seemed 
spent,  the  aged  woman  began  to  move 
uneasily,  and  her  lips  parted  as  if  she 
was  about  to  speak. 

But  all  that  the  quick  ear  of  Louise 
caught  was  the  single  word  "  mother  I" 

"  She  will  recover,"  said  Garland. 
"  Be  calm,  Miss  Freenoble,  your  grand 
mother  will  soon  be  able  to  explain 
all.  Let  me  bathe  her  temples  in  some 
water.  We  must  get  her  down  to  the 
hut  as  soon  as  possible." 

"How  dark  it  is!"  moaned  the  poor 
woman,  speaking  louder  and  clearer. 
"  I  cannot  see  you,  mother.  And  where 
is  Mary?"  putting  out  her  thin,  wasted 
hands  as  if  groping  her  way  through  the 
darkness  of  night. 

"I  am  here,  grandmother — your 
Louise.  Let  me  take  your  hand.  ' 


The  Unexpected  Happens     121 

"I  am  so  frightened,  Mary!  Was  it 
like  this  in  June?" 

"  Her  mind  wanders,"  said  Garland. 
"You  had  better  humor  her,  Miss  Free- 
noble.  She  thinks  you  are  some  one 
else.  While  you  console  her,  we  will 
send  down  to  the  farmhouse  where  we 
left  the  horses  for  better  means  of  con 
veying  her  there." 

"  Hark,  Mary  !  I  hear  mother  calling. 
She  says  we  must  get  up.  Oh,  what  can 
have  happened?" 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,  grandmother." 

"  Where  are  Jere  and  El?" 

"  Safe  with  us,"  whispered  Louise,  in 
an  awed  tone,  hoping  to  console  her.  "  I 
do  not  understand  all  this,"  she  added, 
turning  to  the  others. 

"  Neither  do  I,  Mary,  but  it  is  a  terri 
ble  night.  Hark  !  what  is  that  noise?  It 
cannot  be  the  river.  No — no  !  it  is  the 
mountain — the  mountain  coming  down 
upon  us.  Quick  !  mother  says  we  must 
flee  !" 


122  Soltaire 

The  speaker  caught  at  Louise  with 
frantic  clutches,  dropping  from  her  left 
hand  the  package  which  she  had  held 
from  the  time  she  had  been  found  on  the 
mountain  side.  Garland  had  tried  to  re 
move  it,  but  finding  she  had  such  a  rigid 
hold  upon  it  he  relinquished  the  attempt. 
Now  he  picked  up  the  package,  which 
was  carefully  covered  in  birch  bark,  and 
kept  it  until  it  might  be  wanted  by  its 
owner. 

Of  all  comprising  that  little  group  of 
spectators  no  one  was  more  intently  lis 
tening  to  what  was  being  said  by  this 
strange  woman  than  Harry  Russell,  who 
knew  better  the  history  of  the  mountains 
than  his  companions. 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible,"  he  whis 
pered  to  Garland,  "but  I  believe  she  is 
talking  of  that  fearful  tragedy  which 
happened  in  the  Crawford  Notch  nearly 
seventy-five  years  ago  when  a  whole 
family  was  killed." 

"You   mean   the   Willey  slide,"  said 


The  Unexpected  Happens     123 

Garland.  "  I  am  very  familiar  with  that 
tragical  affair,  as  I  have  reason  to  believe 
that  an  ancestor  of  mine  perished  that 
awful — but  she  is  speaking  again.  She 
may  explain  herself." 

"  Mother  says  it  will  kill  the  children  ! 
I  wonder  what  she  means,  Mary?  But 
here  she  is.  Mother,  must  we  flee  on 
such  a  night  as  this  ?  Listen  !  how  the 
storm  rages.  Father  has  opened  the 
Bible.  He  reads  it,  as  he  always  does 
in  trying  hours.  I  can  hardly  keep  still, 
and  yet  I  am  too  terrified  to  move  !" 

The  speaker  trembled  and  was  so  af 
fected  that  Louise  grew  alarmed,  trying 
to  soothe  her  as  best  she  could,  while 
Garland  spoke  reassuringly. 

"  She  is  undergoing  some  trying  ordeal 
in  her  mind,"  he  said.  "  I  think  it  will 
pass  in  a  moment.  Be  hopeful,  Miss 
Freenoble." 

"Yes,  Mary,"  resumed  the  woman, 
speaking  more  calmly  now;  "I  have 
your  hand.  Dave  has  taken  care  of  the 


1 24  Soltaire 

boys.  Mother  has  the  baby,  and  father 
is  helping  them.  How  dark  it  is,  and 
how  the  river  roars  !" 

After  this  the  speaker's  words  were 
unintelligible  for  several  minutes,  while 
she  seemed  to  be  meeting  some  great 
danger.  Then  she  again  grew  calmer, 
and  continued : 

"Yes,  Soltaire,  I  remember  it  all  so 
plain.  My  mind  is  very  clear  now.  It 
was  an  awful  night.  You  saved  me,  but 
where  are  the  others  ?  All  lost — lost !" 

Again  she  relapsed  into  silence,  and 
when  next  she  spoke  it  was  in  a  different 
strain.  Her  countenance  had  lightened, 
and  as  if  she  was  conscious  of  a  great 
joy,  she  said  softly  : 

"  Yes,  John  Wilbur,  I  was  happy  when 
I  became  your  wife,  and  our  wedded 
days  were  days  of  peace  and  content 
ment,  though  the  old  experiences  would 
at  times  cast  their  shadows  over  my 
thoughts.  I  could  not  forget  him  who 
had  been  so  kind  to  me  all  through  those 


The  Unexpected  Happens     125 

long,  weary  years  in  the  mountain.  Poor 
man  !  his  was  indeed  a  lonely  life,  and 
how  often  I  used  to  wonder  what  had 
driven  him  to  his  loneliness.  I  am  sure 
there  was  some  secret  sorrow,  which  he 
was  too  sensitive  to  give  to  the  world.  I 
feel  that  it  is  not  those  who  show  their 
grief  that  suffer  most,  but  rather  those 
who  bear  their  pain  in  silence.  He  was 
kind  to  me,  but  I  cannot  help  seeing  that 
it  was  a  providential  act  that  sent  you 
as  my  rescuer,  John.  For  that  alone  I 
could  love  you,  but  you  have  been  a 
faithful  husband  to  me.  I — " 

Here  she  faltered,  and  her  words  died 
away  in  whispers  that  the  eager,  anxious 
listeners  could  not  catch. 

"She  must  be  Martha  Willey,  and 
there  was  one  who  lived  through  that 
awful  night,"  said  Harry  Russell,  when 
the  aged  sufferer  became  silent.  "It 
seems  so  strange,  that  after  all  these 
years  we  should  learn  this  wonderful 
truth.  But  I  am  standing  here  when  I 


126  Soltaire 

ought  to  be  giving  my  attention  to  re 
moving  her  to  a  better  place.  We  must 
not  stay  longer,  for  it  will  soon  be  dark. 
If  the  rest  of  you  will  come  along  with 
her,  I  will  go  down  to  the  farmhouse  for 
a  team  to  meet  you  at  the  old  sugar 
camp." 

This  suggestion  was  acted  upon  at 
once,  and  the  party  was  coming  in  sight 
of  the  sugar  orchard  an  hour  later,  when 
Sumner,  who  could  keep  silent  no  longer, 
exclaimed : 

"There  comes  Russell!  I  can  hear 
the  wagon  rattling  over  the  stones.  I 
hope  he  has  brought  up  a  lot  of  mattresses 
and  bedding  to  carry  the  woman  on." 

Mrs.  Wilbur  was  calmer  now,  but  her 
mind  continued  to  dwell  on  the  scenes  of 
that  stormy  night.  Harry  Russell  soon 
reached  the  place,  when  it  was  found 
that  he  had  been  even  more  thoughtful 
than  Sumner  had  wished. 

"  I  have  everything  to  make  her  com 
fortable,"  he  said.  "  They  were  very 


The  Unexpected  Happens     127 

anxious  at  the  farm,  and  to  have  him 
there  as  soon  as  possible  a  boy  has  been 
sent  post-haste  after  a  physician.  He 
will  be  there  by  the  time  we  are.  Lift 
her  into  the  wagon  carefully,  boys." 

Now  that  he  was  not  needed  in  assist 
ing  the  others,  Garland  gave  his  atten 
tion  to  Louise,  saying  : 

"  Here  is  a  package,  Miss  Freenoble, 
that  belongs  to  the — your  grandmother. 
Perhaps  you  had  better  take  it." 

"Keep  it  for  her,  please.  How  strange 
it  seems  that  she  should  be  found  up  here. 
Pardon  me,  Mr.  Garland,  but  it  must 
seem  singular  to  you.  I  will  explain  if 
you  wish." 

"If  you  think  it  best,  but  please  do 
not  feel  in  duty  bound  to  do  so.  It  is  a 
matter  of  your  own  interest." 

"I  had  rather  tell.  You  see  I  have 
lived  with  grandmother  ever  since  father 
died,  five  years  ago.  Mother  has  been 
dead  over  ten  years.  So  has  grand 
father  Wilbur,  who  met  grandmother 


128  Soltaire 

here  in  the  mountains  when  she  was 
younger  than  I  am. 

"There  was  always  one  singular  thing 
connected  with  grandmother.  She  did 
not  know  who  she  was,  and  she  had  lost 
all  memory  of  her  life  before  a  certain 
stormy  night  when  she  was  saved  from 
drowning  by  a  peculiar  man  who  lived 
a  hermit  here  in  the  White  Mountains. 
Some  months  ago  she  disappeared,  and 
though  we  searched  far  and  near  we 
could  find  no  trace  of  her.  I  at  first 
thought  I  would  give  up  coming  to  the 
mountains  this  year,  but  I  was  expect 
ed,  and  I  needed  the  money,  for  father 
had  met  with  misfortune  and  I  was 
obliged  to  earn  my  own  living.  How 
strange  grandmother  should  have  come 
here,  so  near  to  me,  and  yet  I  did  not 
know  it." 

"  No  doubt  she  was  drawn  here  by  old 
recollections,  for  I  think  it  must  have 
been  near  this  vicinity  where  she  lived 
when  she  was  a  girl." 


The  Unexpected  Happens     129 

"On  one  of  the  mountains  beyond 
Black  range,"  she  said.  "I  have  always 
intended  to  try  to  find  the  place,  but 
have  been  obliged  to  put  it  off  from  time 
to  time.  Here  we  are  at  the  farmhouse, 
where  grandmother  will  have  to  remain 
if  the  people  can  care  for  her.  Of  course 
I  shall  remain  with  her  until  she  is  able 
to  be  removed." 

The  others  agreed  in  saying  that  it, 
would  be  better  for  Mrs.  Wilbur  to  stay 
here,  and  the  kind-hearted  hostess  de 
clared  that  she  should  not  allow  them  to 
take  her  down  to  the  summer  hotel.  So 
it  was  quickly  arranged,  when  the  semi- 
unconscious  woman  was  taken  gently 
into  the  house  and  made  as  comfortable 
as  possible.  This  had  been  barely  ac 
complished  before  the  doctor  arrived. 
He  soon  declared  that  it  might  be  some 
time  before  she  would  be  able  to  be  re 
moved,  and  that  there  were  grave  doubts 
if  she  would  ever  be  able  to  go  away. 

"  So   you   see  I  shall  have  to  stay," 


130  Soltaire 

said  Louise  to  Garland.  "  I  wish  you 
would  tell  them  at  the  hotel  how  it  is, 
and  that  I  am  very  sorry  if  I  shall  cause 
them  any  disappointment." 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
be  blamed,"  he  said.  "  I  will  explain  the 
matter  as  fully  as  is  needed.  I  do  not 
know  that  the  whole  story  need  be  told." 

"  You  are  very  thoughtful,"  she  re 
plied.  "  If  grandmother  is  no  worse  I 
shall  try  to  come  down  in  the  morning. 
It  will  be  necessary,  as  I  have  things 
I  need  to  bring  here." 

"  Do  not  be  afraid  to  call  upon  me  for 
everything  I  can  do,"  he  offered.  "I 
hope  I  may  come,  at  least  once  a  day,  to 
see  how  you  are  getting  along." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  going  to  rob 
yourself  of  all  the  pleasure  of  your  vaca 
tion." 

"  My  greatest  pleasure  is  in  doing 
what  I  can  to  lighten  your  burden,"  he 
replied. 

So  Louise  remained  with  her  aged  rel- 


The  Unexpected  Happens  131 

ative  at  the  mountain  farm.  There  was 
no  material  change  in  the  condition  of 
Mrs.  Wilbur  during  the  night.  She 
talked  much,  in  her  incoherent  way,  of 
the  scenes  of  her  earlier  life,  dwelling 
more  particularly  on  the  scenes  of  that 
terrible  night  of  storm. 

In  fact,  she  did  not  seem  to  rally  much 
inside  of  several  weeks,  which  was  an 
anxious  period  to  Louise.  Garland 
proved  as  good  as  his  word,  and  there 
was  no  day  that  he  failed  to  come  to  the 
farmhouse. 

An  early  frost  had  tinted  the  foliage  of 
the  mountain  side  with  the  magical  brush 
of  autumn,  and  the  summer  guests  had 
fled  from  the  haunts  of  summer-land  as 
birds  seek  a  warmer  clime  when  the  first 
indication  of  the  cooler  season  appears. 
Garland  proved  an  exception,  for  he  still 
remained,  very  much  to  the  pleasure  of 
Louise,  who  had  found  herself  looking 
forward  with  apprehension  to  the  time 
when  he,  too,  would  follow  the  crowd. 


132  Soltaire 

It  was  a  charming  September  day, 
and  Louise  and  Garland  had  been  en 
joying  the  beautiful  mountain  scenery, 
which  never  looked  finer  than  at  that 
season,  when  the  kind  housewife,  who 
had  been  left  with  her  grandmother, 
came  hastily  to  her  side,  saying  : 

"  I  wish  you  would  come  at  once.  I  do 
believe  your  grandmother  is  better — that 
her  fever  has  turned.  She  seems  real 
natural,  as  I  should  suppose  she  would." 

With  a  heart  beating  high  with  ex 
pectation,  Louise  hastened  to  the  side 
of  her  relative.  No  sooner  had  she 
caught  sight  of  her  countenance  than  she 
saw  that  a  remarkable  change  for  the 
better  had  taken  place.  Something  of 
her  old-time  spirit  had  returned. 

"I  thought  that  my  granddaughter, 
Louise,  was  beside  me,"  she  was  saying 
to  the  woman  bending  over  her.  "It 
seemed  to  me  as  if  she  had  been  with 
me  a  long  time,  though  I  could  not 
imagine  how  she  or  I  came  here." 


The  Unexpected  Happens     133 

"Never  mind  that,  grandmother  I" 
exclaimed  Louise,  advancing  quickly  to 
her  side.  "I  am  here,  and  I  have  been 
all  through  your  illness." 

"  Louise — darling  !"  folding  her  in  her 
weak  arms,  while  tears  ran  down  her 
furrowed  cheeks. 

"  Do  not  excite  yourself,  dear  grand 
mother.  All  is  well." 

"  And  have  I  been  sick  long?  How 
came  I  here?  And,  pray,  how  came 
you  here?  I  cannot  understand  it." 

"  Do  not  try  to  now,  grandmother.  A 
little  later  I  will  explain  all.  You  have 
been  ill,  but  you  are  better  now,  and 
when  you  get  a  little  stronger  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  You  need  to  rest  and 
sleep  now.  I  am  so  glad  you  know  me 
at  last." 

A  little  later  the  aged  woman  sank  into 
a  refreshing  slumber,  but  even  when  she 
awoke  Louise  did  not  feel  justified  in  de 
tailing  the  particulars  of  her  long  illness, 
or  the  cause  that  had  led  up  to  it.  But  a 
9 


134  Soltaire 

few  days  later  she  felt  the  time  had  come 
when  she  must  produce  the  package 
which  she  had  kept  with  jealous  care. 
Her  grandmother  had  inquired  for  it,  and 
at  sight  of  it  she  seemed  to  regain  much 
of  her  lost  strength. 

"I  was  afraid  I  had  lost  it,"  she  said. 
"  I  do  not  know  what  it  contains,  but  I 
am  sure  it  is  a  message  from  the  past — a 
link  connecting  the  old  life  with  the  new. 
I  found  it  in  the  cave  where  I  lived  so 
long  with  Soltaire.  Poor,  kind  old  man  ! 
How  often  have  I  wondered  what  his  fate 
was." 

"Shall  I  open  the  package,  grand 
mother?  It  may  reveal  something  of  the 
mystery." 

"Yes,  my  child,  you  may  open  it. 
My  hand  trembles  so  I  cannot." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
SOLTAIRE'S  SECRET. 

"While  yet  on  old  Chocorua's  top 

The  lingering  sunlight  says  farewell, 
Your  purple  fingered  labor  stop, 
And  hear  a  tale  I  have  to  tell." 

Garland  was  present  at  the  farmhouse 
at  the  time,  and  Louise  had  learned  that 
her  grandmother  felt  no  hesitation  in  let 
ting  him  listen  to  the  paper  left  by  Sol- 
taire,  so  she  opened  the  package  without 
delay.  The  feelings  of  the  three  may 
be  better  imagined  than  described,  as 
they  prepared  to  learn  the  contents  of  the 
document,  which  was  securely  wrapped 
in  several  layers  of  birch  bark  that  had 
kept  the  paper  within  perfectly  dry. 

Mrs.  Wilbur's  mind  was  very  clear  for 
a  woman  of  her  age,  and  she  was  as 
anxious  as  her  companions  to  know  what 
the  strange  man  had  written.  Since  her 
recovery  from  the  illness  arising  from 


136  Soltaire 

the  blow  she  had  received  on  her  head, 
at  the  time  she  had  fallen  on  the  side  of 
Black  Mountain,  she  had  recovered  a 
very  vivid  memory  of  her  childhood 
days — a  memory  she  had  lost  on  the 
night  of  the  storm,  when  all  but  she  of 
her  family  had  perished ;  for  her  words 
proved  that  she  was  Martha  Willey  of 
that  ill-fated  home.  But  Louise  is  read 
ing  from  the  hermit's  manuscript : 

"Dear  Martha:  I  am  sure  this  will 
eventually  fall  into  your  hands,  so  I  ad 
dress  these,  my  last  words  to  a  human 
being,  to  you.  I  have  not  long  to  live, 
and  my  dream  to  see  you  once  more  can 
not  be  fulfilled.  When  I  left  you  that 
day  I  intended  to  find  you,  but  the  temp 
tation  for  me  to  remain  at  the  Soltaryage 
a  while  was  too  strong  for  me  to  resist. 
But  I  stayed  too  long.  Winter  has 
caught  me  here.  I  am  not  prepared  for 
it  as  I  have  been  before.  This  afternoon 
I  must  go  in  quest  of  wood  and  meat.  In 
my  weakened  condition  I  feel  that  I  shall 
never  return.  But  I  must  starve  to  death 
if  I  remain. 


Soltaire's  Secret  137 

"  I  have  more  important  things  to  say 
than  this.  If  I  never  come  back  the 
world  will  not  miss  me.  But  you  may 
care  to  know  more  of  the  old  man,  who, 
with  all  his  faults,  tried  to  be  a  kind 
father  to  you.  I  was  kinder  to  you  than 
I  was  to  my  own  child,  though  it  mav  be 
he  has  a  kind  thought  for  his  poor,  mis 
guided  parent.  Though  you  have  often 
questioned  me,  you  must  have  more  often 
wondered  who  I  was,  living  a  life  of 
voluntary  exile  in  the  mountains.  First, 
let  me  tell  you  who  you  are,  though  in 
doing  it  I  must  confess  to  a  wrong  done 
you.  And  yet  that  wrong  was  not  in 
tentional. 

"  On  the  night  I  rescued  you  from  the 
flood  of  that  terrible  storm  I  felt  quite 
sure  you  were  the  daughter  of  Samuel 
and  Polly  Willey,  but  I  had  no  proof  of 
it  then,  and  I  concluded  to  remain  silent 
until  I  was  certain  of  what  I  said.  Again, 
all  of  your  family  perished,  and  I  could 
see  no  real  necessity  why  I  should  give 
you  the  pain  of  the  sad  truth.  The  blow 
on  your  head  had  kindly  removed  all 
memory  of  that  dreadful  affair,  and  why 
should  I  be  more  cruel  than  the  storm? 


138  Soltaire 

Now  I  have  found  proof  that  you  are 
Martha  Willey,  the  sole  survivor  of  the 
lost  family.  You  may  care  to  know  this 
now.  Visiting  the  lonely  house  when 
no  one  was  near  I  found  several  little 
mementoes  that  will  go  to  help  you  es 
tablish  your  identity  whenever  you  wish. 
All  of  these  I  have  carefully  preserved, 
and  you  will  find  them  in  a  separate 
package  near  where  this  is  placed,  hop 
ing  it  will  sometime  be  found  by  you. 

"  Now  a  few  words  as  to  myself,  writ 
ten  out  that  if  my  son  or  his  children 
should  learn  of  it  the  information  may 
prove  of  satisfaction  to  them.  My  fam 
ily  were  rich,  and  as  a  young  man  I  had 
great  expectations  of  a  successful  life. 
My  prospects  seemed  doubly  bright  when 
I  met  and  learned  to  love  beautiful  Polly 
Hilton.  She  returned  my  love,  and  we 
looked  forward  to  a  happy  future.  But 
anticipation  was  kinder  than  realization. 
I  went  abroad  with  my  parents  and  an 
other — a  young  cousin  who  had  always 
lived  in  our  family.  Our  ship  was 
wrecked  in  a  gale,  and  several  of  the 
passengers  were  lost.  So  it  was  two 
years  later  before  I  got  home.  You 


Soltaire's  Secret  139 

may  judge  of  my  surprise  to  be  told  that 
Polly  had  married  one  Samuel  Willey, 
and  was  living  in  the  White  Mountains. 
It  seems  that  she  had  been  told  that  I 
had  gone  away  to  marry  my  cousin,  and 
believing  that  I  had  been  false  to  her,  as 
well  as  hearing  that  I  was  lost  at  sea, 
she  had  accepted  Mr.  Willey,  who  had 
been  an  old  suitor. 

"  My  parents  now  wanted  me  to  marry 
my  cousin,  and  she  being  willing,  I  finally 
consented.  She  lived  only  three  years 
after,  a  kind  and  faithful  wife,  leaving 
at  her  death  a  little  son  for  me  to  look 
after.  But  my  father  and  mother  were 
wrapped  up  in  the  little  one,  so  that 
I  came  to  think  less  and  less  of  him.  I 
do  not  say  I  did  not  love  him  with  a 
father's  yearning,  but  my  heart  was  in 
another's  keeping.  So  I  wandered  away 
from  home,  eventually  finding  my  way 
to  the  home  of  Polly  Willey.  She  was 
happily  married,  and  while  she  shed 
scalding  tears  over  the  bitter  mistake 
which  had  been  made,  she  bade  me  go 
my  way  in  peace  and  never  see  her  again. 

"  Literally  I  kept  my  promise,  but 
instead  of  returning  to  my  home  as  I 


140  Soltaire 

ought  to  have  done,  I  sought  the  moun 
tains,  and  here  I  took  up  my  solitary 
abode.  At  first  I  intended  to  return  to 
those  I  had  left,  but  I  put  it  off  until  it 
seemed  too  late.  Then  you  came,  and 
the  rest  need  not  be  told  here. 

"  During  those  intervals  when  I  was 
away  I  was  trying  to  learn  something  of 
your  parentage,  or  something  of  my  son. 
In  the  last  I  was  entirely  unsuccessful. 
Father  and  mother  had  removed  to  some 
place  unknown  to  me,  and  I  felt  I  had 
seen  little  Walter  for  the  last  time. 
Knowing  that  I  was  all  to  blame,  my  lot 
has  been  the  harder  to  bear,  though  I 
have  tried  to  meet  the  inevitable  calmly. 

"There  is  one  thing  more  of  which 
I  wish  to  speak,  and  then  I  am  done. 
The  great  carbuncle  which  I  found,  and 
which  I  believe  to  be  invaluable,  still 
rests  where  it  fell  into  the  old  well  near 
the  mouth  of  the  cave.  I  have  tried  to 
remove  it,  but  failed.  Now  I  wish  you 
to  obtain  assistance  and  get  possession  of 
it.  It  will  make  you  rich,  for  I  give  it 
all  to  you.  I  hope  you  are  happy  with 
John  Wilbur.  I  believe  he  is  an  honest 
man.  I  wish — I  wish  many  things,  but 


Soltaire's  Secret  141 

I  need  not  write  more.  My  fingers  are 
cramped  now,  and  the  tears  fall  so  I  can 
hardly  see  what  I  have  written.  Think 
of  me  as  kindly  as  you  can,  and  if  you 
ever  meet  my  son  Walter,  show  him 
this,  and  tell  him  his  father's  heart  was 
not  devoid  of  love  for  him. 

"MARK  GARLAND." 

During  the  reading  of  the  last  part  of 
this  narrative  Arthur  Garland  showed 
uncommon  interest,  which  increased  as 
she  continued  until,  at  the  close,  he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  exclaiming  : 

"Mark  Garland!  Can  it  be?  That 
man  was  my  great-grandfather.  My 
grandfather's  name  was  Walter,  and 
his  father  went  away  in  just  such  a 
manner  as  that  paper  says.  It  must  be 
true.  Miss  Freenoble — Louise — this  is 
indeed  a  strange  revelation." 

The  others  were  scarcely  less  surprised 
than  he,  and  the  three  conversed  on  the 
matter  a  long  time,  and  the  manuscript 
was  read  through  again.  Many  things 


142  Soltaire 

which  had  been  mysterious  to  them  be 
fore  were  now  plain,  and  Arthur  was 
convinced  that  the  strange  hermit  who 
had  so  long  called  himself  "Soltaire" 
was  really  his  great-grandparent. 

"  Father  will  be  glad  to  hear  of  this," 
he  said.  "  How  singular  that  our  fortunes 
have  been  drawn  so  closely  together.  I 
am  sure  you  will  no  longer  delay  your 
answer  to  my  question  asked  that  after 
noon  as  we  sat  in  the  old  maple." 

"Isn't  it  strange  that  grandmother 
should  have  wandered  off  in  the  way 
she  did,  and  find  her  way  back  here  to 
the  mountains?"  asked  Louise,  as  if  to 
change  the  topic. 

"  There  are  many  strange  happenings 
in  our  lives,  as  uneventful  as  they  seem. 
She  is  in  her  second  childhood,  and  per 
haps  it  was  not  as  surprising  as  we  think 
that  her  mind  returned  to  the  old  haunts 
of  her  girlhood.  At  any  rate,  I  can  see 
no  better  explanation.  Her  fall  in  the 
mountains,  when  either  frightened  or 


She  laid  her  hand  silently,  trustingly,  in  his. 


Soltaire's  Secret  143 

struck  by  the  fluttering  eagle,  was  the 
cause  of  the  return  of  her  recollection  of 
the  adventures  of  the  night  of  the  slide. 
I  have  no  doubt  but  she  is  Martha 
Willey." 

"  If  you  are  Soltaire's  great-grandson, 
the  great  carbuncle  belongs  to  you, "said 
Louise. 

"Not  so.  Does  n't  he  expressly  give 
it  to  your  grandmother?  At  the  first 
opportunity  we  will  get  a  few  trusty  men 
to  help  us,  when  we  will  obtain  the  won 
derful  gem.  For  your  part  it  will  prove 
a  veritable  diamond.  As  for  myself,  I 
have  found  a  priceless  jewel,  and  am 
only  waiting  for  you  to  speak  the  word 
which  shall  make  me  the  happiest  of  all 
men." 

They  had  now  approached  the  open 
door,  and  standing  there  side  by  side, 
looking  out  upon  the  great  amphitheatre 
of  mountains,  she  laid  her  hand  silently, 
trustingly,  in  his. 

THE  END. 


8153 


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